


The Nature of Miracles

by LadyStark28



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2020-01-13 07:03:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18463912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyStark28/pseuds/LadyStark28
Summary: Wesley and Will's love spans a lifetime - and a universe.





	1. Past I

**Author's Note:**

> This one started out as a single smut scene that somehow exploded into a multi-part work in progress. If you read into the VERY limited background info in canon, Wes and Will actually have a lot in common (single children with a dead parent, a penchant for recklessness and stubbornness, intense loyalty to those they love, single-minded ambition). Although they only show up in the beginning of this story (so far), Jack Crusher seems like such a great character, and I suspect that Kyle Riker isn't as much of a one-dimensional dick as he seems. I'm fascinated by how people are molded by their early experiences, so I hope that comes across in the story.
> 
> In case you didn't read the warnings, there will most definitely be smut. Like, a lot of smut. Seriously, most of the rest of the story will contain ALL THE SMUT (I promise!) but the first chapter I post is very tame. Consider yourself warned.
> 
> Oh, and if you're interested, I foolishly volunteered for a "Merry Month of Cohen" Trek writing challenge, and even more foolishly took the May 1 spot. My piece for that is entirely about Wesley, and is shaping up to be one big tearful buffet of angst, so look for that under the Wesley tags on the 1st. 
> 
> I don't have a beta reader (I'm always open to volunteers!) and this is a very rough WIP, so please, please, please feel free to leave feedback, both positive and negative (as long as it's constructive and not just mean). You won't hurt my feelings (I don't have any) and constructive criticism really does help me improve my writing.
> 
> As always, thank you for taking the time to read and comment - knowing people read my work is the ultimate motivation to keep going!
> 
> Note: This work will have multiple chapters, but AO3 isn't giving me that option for some reason. I'll see if I can fix the chapter numbers later.

 

Act I - Past

 

The day Will was born, a blizzard howled against the windows of the hospital. The temperature dropped low enough to turn the snowflakes to driving dust, killing visibility beyond one’s own face. No sane person would be outside if they could help it, and on this day, even the questionably sane Alaskans hunkered down.

 

The newborn Riker nestled in his mother’s arms, lulled to sleep by the unceasing moan of the storm. His father typed busily on his PADD, sending the news to friends and colleagues with a proud flourish. Kyle masked his slight irritation over the baby’s name; he had wanted a Junior, but wisely conceded to his wife after nearly two days of difficult labor.

 

_Really, Kyle, he just looks like a William. It’s a strong, sensible name, and my father’s name goes perfectly with it. We can call him Billy for short._

 

Kyle never called his son “Billy.” He was happy enough to brag when the boy crawled and then walked earlier than his peers, as well as when Mrs. Riker had him recognizing his letters by the time he was two. But one day soon after, she woke with an intense headache that she tried to ignore, and before anyone thought to test her for bacterial meningitis, Will’s mother - Kyle’s wife - was gone.

 

Her death was nobody’s fault, but Kyle did resent her for leaving him with a toddler. He seriously considered hiring a full-time nanny, until Bram from the Fairbanks office suggested it. Colleague or not, Kyle’d be damned if he’d let anyone hint that there was something he couldn’t handle.

 

_Fuck you, Bram. He’s my kid and I can raise him just fine by myself._

 

They did ok for a while. Kyle remembered to feed them both and to keep Will from wandering towards sharp tools and dark woods. He had a fence built in the yard so Will could play outside while Kyle worked with one eye on his PADD and the other (mostly) on Will.

 

As the boy grew, Kyle’s parenting approach became less involved. If the kid was stupid enough to do something he shouldn’t, then he could suffer the consequences. Kyle considered it a great way to build character, and Will’s frequently hazardous stunts only bothered his father when they became an inconvenience.

 

_Now, don’t you fuss over the copperbush, Kyle. I’m just glad the boy’s not hurt._

 

_I’m more concerned about your property, Mrs. Bennett. I’ll send Will over tomorrow to help you plant a new one._

 

Kids aren’t stupid, and Will learned early on that however concerned his father acted in public, his private face held a more cutting truth. Kyle never used violence, or even the threat of it, as punishment. He never took away privileges or sent Will to his room. Instead, he reacted to his son’s increasingly-desperate grabs for attention with complete indifference, and the icy neglect of it drove Will to distraction.

 

Kyle prided himself on the slick, unflappable facade he cultivated, entirely unaware that his son was determined to up the ante until Kyle had no choice but to be a parent.

 

_Will’s a smart kid, Mr. Riker. He could do great things if he would just apply himself._

 

_Yes, well, that remains to be seen. He won’t do anything great if he keeps acting up in your class._

 

By the time he became a teenager, Will’s focus split between driving his father nuts and plotting his escape. When an older boy down the street enlisted in Starfleet and left for San Francisco, Will seized his chance. He didn’t _have_ to go through the Academy, but Kyle’s sneering disdain for enlisted men burrowed in Will’s ego and wouldn’t let go. He’d be a commissioned officer or nothing, and Kyle, who never had the balls to join up himself, could go to hell. Still, walking the line until his application got approved was challenging enough.

 

_I know Will and his buddies were just fooling around, Mr. Riker, but we don’t want to see anyone get hurt. I do appreciate you coming right down to the station. Will, I hope you realize how lucky you are to have such an involved father._

 

_Oh, he does. I’m very sorry about this, Officer. I assure you it won’t happen again. How’re Carol and that new baby of yours?_

 

A police record would have sunk Will’s Academy aspirations, but he refused to let up hating his father enough to wonder if Kyle had smoothed things over one last time as a parting gift. After a perfunctory goodbye and a solo cab ride to the depot, Will adamantly refused to waste a single thought for Kyle again.

 

He spent the next years crafting his own future, honing a career that glinted like sunlight off polished steel. He aspired to become the apex of a mountain that never thaws, the harsh reflection of rays off snow. Bright and flashing, sudden and brief, and cruel if you didn’t expect it.

 

He buried himself in his ambitions, never realizing that when you’re raised on winter, you can’t help but crave summer’s heat.

 

***

 

The night Wesley was born, the sun had dipped into San Francisco Bay in a riot of brush strokes, and the fog had miraculously cleared to reveal a wondrous galaxy of stars. The newborn mewled and fought against being swaddled, until his father carried him to the window and pointed out the constellations, naming them one by one.

 

Even before his actual birth, Wesley claimed the adoration of the _Stargazer_ crew. Jack’s shipmates loved their First Officer and his beautiful wife, and if the Crushers hogged the bandwidth with ultrasound pictures while the ship was away, no one thought to complain. The moment the birth announcement went out, messages and gifts poured in from across the quadrant.

 

_Look what Uncle Walker sent, Wesley. Your very own training helmet. Bev, where’s the holocam?_

 

_Really, Jack, what use does a newborn have for a flight simulator?_

 

_Tell me Cad didn’t spend actual money shipping a rocking horse from Triton._

 

_Zoma’s planetside; he says he’s coming for a visit tonight, and he doesn’t do diapers._

 

Only the captain kept his distance, although he did send a lovely bouquet of roses along with a bottle of Chateau Picard, with instructions that it was to be opened on the child’s first birthday. Jack was touched that Johnny thought to send anything, until his wife pointed out that babies don’t drink wine.

 

Jack’s first mission after Wesley’s birth was agony for everyone. Beverly cried in their apartment the night before he left, unsoothed by her husband’s tender embrace. Little Wes bounced around his crib, too excited by his new crawling skills to sleep. He saved his own tears for the the actual departure, screaming and grasping for his father, breaking Jack’s heart as he boarded the shuttle.

 

As Wesley grew, leaving got harder. Jack sent a message every single day, even if it was only a quick “I love you.” Every few weeks the signal was strong enough for an actual conversation, as long as they kept it short.

 

_What’s Mommy feeding you, buddy? You’re huge!_

 

_He’s getting into_ everything _. I left a med tricorder on the counter the other day and he managed to climb up, pull it down, and dismantle it. I had to order a new one._

 

Parenting from a distance was hard, but Jack thought he and Beverly handled it relatively well. Wesley was a beautiful child, energetic and affectionate and already showing sparks of brilliance, and each visit home made Jack more reluctant to leave. His heart’s duty was here, protecting his young son from a world that would seek to temper him.

 

_Why doesn’t the teacher want me in her class, Daddy?_

 

_Oh, sweetie, it’s not that she doesn’t want you. She says you’re so smart that she’s not sure her class is the best place for you._

 

_I didn’t mean to reprogram the cellular biology module. I said I was sorry._

 

Beverly stood outside Wes’ bedroom door one night, listening with a swelling ache as Jack sang their son to sleep, some ancient lilting tune about cowboys and colors and a home in the sky. Wesley sang along in his five-year-old trill, punctuated by yawns that faded into silence, leaving Jack to finish the last lines on his own. Beverly tiptoed in to stand beside him, Jack’s arms around her waist and his head against her chest, while they both watched their child dream. He had always wanted to be a father, but he had no idea that something so small could command his entire heart, until Wesley arrived.

 

_I’m thinking about putting in a transfer request to Earth, Bev. HQ always has openings._

 

_A desk job, Jack? You’ll be miserable._

 

_Eh, it won’t be so bad. I can’t keep going away, honey. I miss you like crazy, and Wes...I’m missing his whole childhood._

 

_Have you mentioned it to the captain?_

 

_No._

 

_He won’t be happy._

 

_Yeah, well, you know the Fleet’s his whole life. I have other priorities._

 

Six months and one tragic accident later, Beverly sat like stone with her young son beside her. Wesley’s small hands clenched in his lap, tight shoulders brittle against her arm. She played the What-if game in her head, to distract from the nightmare of Jack’s crewmates standing at the podium, describing him in glowing past tense.

 

_What if he had put in for a transfer the day after that conversation - the very next day?_

 

_What if Walker had volunteered for the mission instead of Jack?_

 

_What if the explosion had come a moment later?_

 

_What if what if what if?_

 

Beverly convinced herself that Wes didn’t remember that day, or the ones after; it made it easier to believe they would be just fine. But he did remember, down to the smallest detail, each moment polished with unshed tears. In the years to come, Wesley would give away every part of himself, but his memories of his father were for him alone. When he wearied of being perfect, of following every order and exceeding every expectation, he would sift through those moments and remember what it felt like to be loved for who he was and not just what he could do.

 

As the years passed, Wesley cloaked himself in other people’s epithets - prodigy, genius, Boy Wonder, misfit, savior - but he refused to smother his pure wonder, his reckless curiosity. He was the heart of a star, the life-giving glow of a fire in the dark. He was the heat radiating from the ground on a summer day, the pleasant warmth of light sinking into skin. Comforting and cheerful, steady and eternal, keeping the dark at bay.

  
If anyone could see past the shrouds of who he was supposed to be _,_ they would find a precious, shining treasure, bright enough to light an entire life.


	2. Past II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will gives Wesley everything he needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still not entirely sure about the plot structure for this story - it's mostly porn, but I actually am trying to build in a tiny bit of plot (or at least a loose timeline). This chapter jumps to when Wes is already of age and he and Will are together. I'm trying something new with the dialogue by italicizing it for the "Past" chapters - feel free to let me know if it's just annoying/distracting. As always, pleasepleaseplease comment; positive comments make my day, but constructive criticism helps me improve. And of course, a million thanks to anyone taking the time to read this!

 

Past II  


Starfleet was a job, and Will was good at it. The fact that it involved space travel was incidental, and in the rare moments when he caught himself staring open-mouthed at a star’s birth or a black hole’s spinning heart, he swiftly locked his amazement away. Then he got the _Enterprise,_ and his natural indifference didn’t matter anymore because Wesley radiated wonder enough for both of them, and Will happily basked in his reflected light.

 

More than any phenomenon outside the ship’s hull, Wesley’s mind produced enough marvels to keep Will enthralled. His genius encompassed everything inside the ship and out, from the outer boundaries of the galaxy to the infinitesimal space between their skin and the bedsheets. But without question, the most miraculous thing Will ever witnessed was the day Wesley opened a seam in spacetime and pulled his mother back from the abyss.

 

Really, Will should have stayed on the Bridge. The captain had stationed himself in Engineering (of course he had, with Beverly’s life in danger) and with Data, Geordi, Wesley and the Traveler, the center pool table was already crowded. All the same, the procedure was too risky and abstract for Will’s comfort, so he left Worf in charge and marched down to Engineering, where he could keep a protective eye on Wes and a suspicious, disapproving one on the Traveler.

 

He stationed himself off to the side, and kept quiet while Wes and the Traveler worked in tandem to input equations. Wesley never looked at him; his soft mouth set in a tense line, worried eyes skipping from one variable to another. His fingers trembled as they tapped sharply on the console - he was more rattled than he had been piloting the ship with the Borg bearing down on them. More than once, Will saw him tap an entry, shake his head, and start over again.

 

A jealous thorn stung Will’s chest as the Traveler placed a hand on Wes’ shoulder, serene voice too low for Will to hear. Whatever he whispered in Wesley’s ear seemed to work; his slim body relaxed, eyes closed, head bowed, drawing strength from himself.

 

Will stared in disbelief as Engineering suddenly began pulsing with light, a throbbing heartbeat centered near the warp core. It was working, but Will heard his own voice cry out as Wesley’s solid form pulsed in rhythm, bands of him fading out and then reappearing, weaker with each beat. Will’s long legs carried him to Wesley’s side, where he intended to wrap his arms around his lover and not let go, even if all the force of space-time fought against him. Just before he reached Wes, something heavy and blue flew from the vortex, landing with a sickening thud in the corner. At the same moment, Wesley breathed a gentle gasp and collapsed on the panel, a marionette with cut strings.

 

The captain’s shout and the doctor’s reply told Will Beverly was safe, and his heart slowed considerably when he saw Wes’ head rock slightly on his folded arms. Kneeling beside him, Will placed a steady hand on his lover’s heaving back.

 

_You did it, Wes; you did it, you saved her._

 

Wesley lifted his head, turning immediately to check that his mother was safe. His eyes drifted inward, and he looked through Will, face lit with wonder.

 

_What was it like? I mean, from this side of it?_

 

That’s what he was concerned about? Not himself, of course, never his own well-being, no thought to how Will was supposed to go on if anything happened to him. Wesley touched heaven, and it wasn’t enough; he just _had_ to know what the view was like from solid ground. Wesley would chase infinity as far as he could reach, and Will loved him for it.

 

_You scared me half to death, that’s what it was like. No more warp bubble stunts, ok?_

 

Wes flashed a grin that died when his eyes fell again on his mother, now reaching out for him.

 

Will clutched the soft, mussed hair at his nape. _She’s_ fine, _sweetheart. I don’t know what you did, but it was miraculous._

 

***

 

Wesley hardly considered it a miracle. He brooded for days after, his eyes a stormy gray-brown, his sunny smile nowhere to be seen. He couldn’t sleep, his brain throwing equation after equation at him in the middle of the night, until he finally slipped out of bed while Will breathed next to him, and walked naked to the desk with his PADD throwing a dim halo over his face. He ran through the variables again and again and again, searching for the key to what had gone so wrong that his mother had almost disappeared forever.

 

He was so engrossed that he didn’t hear the soft, sleep-roughened voice from the bed. _Wes?_

 

He missed, too, the gentle sigh, and the whisper of sheets tossed aside, and the solid pad of Will’s bare feet on the carpet. He wandered through his theoretical warp bubbles, until strong hands settled on his shoulders and began kneading the tension away.

 

_Come back to bed, love._

 

Wes sighed, his head dropping into his hands, trying to press his eyes awake with the heels of his palms. _I need to figure this out._

 

Wesley lived in his own head - sometimes too much - but Will trusted only solid forms, whatever he could touch and taste and hold. He slid into the chair behind his lover, nearly pushing Wes off the seat before Will caught him with a strong arm around his waist.

 

_Come to bed, or I’ll annoy you until you do._

 

Wes laughed unexpectedly, giving up the fight for now, and teasing in his turn, _Is that your best offer?_

 

Will shivered in response, tiny hairs coming to life along his arms and neck. His cock hardened against the cradle of Wesley’s lower back, head dipping forward to swallow Wesley’s pillow-soft kiss. Wes turned in his arms to face him, engulfing Will in heated skin and tongue and breath. His worries and fears were shoved aside in favor of devouring Will - Wesley never did anything by half measures. Still, he didn’t relish the thought of falling off the chair, so he pulled back, eyes glinting impishly.

 

_Go get the gel while I close up my notes._

 

Will stared at him while his brain rebooted - _are you fucking serious? -_ then turned and hurried to the bedside table with Wesley’s throaty chuckle in his ear. In the time it took to grab the lube and get back, Wes cleared the desk and perched on top of it, beckoning to his lover. Will barreled into him, practically lifting him off the desk in strong arms.

 

Touching Will always brought Wesley back from infinity, because who could get lost in space-time when the man he loved was moving against him? He closed his eyes to better soak up every inch of swarthy skin, twisting to encourage Will’s searching fingers beneath him. He clutched Will’s shoulders, his back, the nape of his neck, digging his worries and self-doubt into rippling muscles.

 

Will bent him back, spreading him over the desk with a wicked smirk that Wesley licked away. Will’s fingers stroked a musical rhythm inside, until Wes moaned the sweetest song, gripping the back of Will’s head to match his own gray-green gaze to icy blue. Will held him closer, large hands smoothing along Wesley’s sweat-slick thighs, whispering between kisses.

 

_Now?_

 

_Now._

 

He missed his lover’s retreating fingers for only a moment before Will’s cock replaced them, and then warp bubbles didn’t matter, because Will was here to shield him and the dark spaces in his heart were made bright.

 

He came with a gasp, Will surrounding him and stars exploding behind his closed eyes. Will followed soon after, and Wesley’s mind filled with thoughts of how very much he loved this man, and if he could only stop time, he would stay in this moment forever.

  
Will slumped forward to rest his damp forehead on his lover’s chest, ignoring the ache in his back and the bruising where his legs hit the edge of the desk. Wesley’s soft fingertips traced ancient runes along his skin, glyphs meaning _love_ and _want_ and _always,_ and Will marveled once again at how perfectly they each filled in what the other needed.


	3. Past III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wesley proves there are some things he doesn’t need to train for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one more than lives up to the Explicit rating. I’m not quite sure the chapters are coming together into a coherent story, but I actually do have a rough idea of a plot. I don’t have a beta reader, so any suggestions or constructive comments are more than welcome (plus it helps my motivation - just sayin’). Enjoy!

 

Past III

 

Wesley did not know jealousy, or if he did, he chose to ignore it. When Will returned from an away mission, the sickly-sweet perfume of an alien woman sticking to his skin, he would rush to shower before he could slip into Wesley’s bed. And Wes would tease him, nose along Will’s body until he declared he had found a spot the soap had missed, then lick that patch clean and finish with a playful nip.

 

Will had always had a possessive heart; from a tender age he had divided the world’s treasures into “mine” or “not mine.” And Wesley fell firmly under “mine.” Will could control his jealousy on the ship, although he was always acutely aware when one of his lover’s companions brushed a hand too close, or held a gaze too long. Once, in Ten Forward, Will watched with increasing outrage as a new ensign, fresh out of the Academy, had encroached on Wesley’s space, daring to stroke his peach-soft cheek with an unwelcome hand. Before Will could intervene, Wes had jerked away, his slim frame rigid and his lovely face like carved marble. Will read the words from his angel’s lips:  _ keep your hands, and everything else, to yourself.  _

 

Worf insisted that Ensign Crusher needed to learn to fight.  _ Combat training is required for all officers, Commander. He needs to be able to defend himself. _ Will had agreed, for Wesley’s safety, only. Wes had greeted the order with a raised eyebrow, but humored his lover as he was wont to do. When Will asked him in the dark, warm tumult of blankets and bodies, after they had traded sleeping for fucking, Wes seemed almost amused, hazel eyes twinkling with mischief.  _ Sounds like fun. _

 

When Wes trudged through the door the next evening, Will knew instantly that he had made a grave mistake. Wesley lifted his head and pinned Will in place with his gaze, depths of despair turning his eyes to slate. Without a word, he disappeared into the bathroom, and Will sprang from the couch and followed. Wes stood at the sink, and under the harsh lights Will’s eyes landed on the mottled edge of a bruise, roiling purple from underneath his uniform collar. Wesley’s slender hands delicately unfastened his tunic; Will reached out to help, but the quick fury blazing in his lover’s eyes made him freeze. Wes eased out of his uniform top and black undershirt, letting both slip carelessly to the floor. 

 

Will’s mouth dropped open, blue eyes widening with shock, then grief, then rage. The bruising he had glimpsed before was nothing compared to the palette blossoming across Wesley’s body. He reached out again, looking to Wes for permission, and his heart ached watching his lover lower his eyes and soften his gaze, as a colt tamed.

 

Wesley gripped the edge of the vanity top while Will carried out his grim inspection. Large, strong hands brushed gingerly along each bruise, running across his collarbone, down one narrow shoulder, lower and lower, until Will watched his own hands slide the waistband down Wes’ legs, pushing his pants away. He felt the dull thud of his knees hitting the floor, and pressed his mouth to the slight dip between Wes’ navel and his sharp hipbone, the injured skin already shifting red-blue-green. His kisses strayed too close to the edge, and Wes flinched.

 

_ That hurts.  _

 

Hearing the words made Will hurt with him. He stood and looped an arm around Wesley’s trim waist, trying to avoid his injured side. Wesley flinched again, then rested his head heavily against Will’s shoulder, his exhalations careful, controlled. Will pulled a medkit from a drawer, finding the instrument he needed by touch. He skimmed the sleek tool over Wesley’s injuries, watching in relief as the bruised skin slowly faded to its normal hue, the sandy satin-pink of a sea-washed conch shell. 

 

Will tried to meet Wesley’s gaze, desperate for his approval.  _ Better? _

 

_ Better.  _ Wes nodded, but his eyes stayed downcast, submissive, saying only what he thought Will wanted to hear.

 

That wasn’t good enough, and Will wasn’t fooled. He cupped Wesley’s face, sweet even in sadness, and resolved to love the darkness away with his own mouth.  _ Darling.  _ His lips brushed Wesley’s mouth, his shoulder, the corded column of his neck; his tongue sought Wesley’s heartline, pulsing like a drumbeat beneath taut skin.

 

And without warning, Wes pushed him away, hazel eyes flashing like the sun off a glacier.

 

Will’s face fell into shock, then dismay. He knew he had stumbled, had made the fatal error of patronizing his lover, using childish tactics to appease him. But Wesley wasn’t a child, and any tolerance he once had for being treated like one had burned away in the fire of his own brilliance. And so Will humbled himself as he would never do for anyone else.  _ I’m sorry. Making you train with Worf...it was a stupid idea. God, Wes, I’m so sorry. _

 

Wesley’s gaze was hard as granite, his stance that of an avenging angel.  _ I can’t train to hurt people like that. Don’t ask me again.  _ He turned and left, and suddenly Will understood. He had refused to fight Worf, even in self-defense. He would rather take blow after blow than stoop to violence, and Worf would not have relented. Will followed his lover to the bedroom, aching to confirm that Wes forgave him, that they still belonged to each other.

 

Wesley sat at the edge of their bed, naked and turned away from Will’s approach. Will found himself mesmerized, as he often was, by the beauty of Wesley’s rare stillness. How many times had he caught himself on the Bridge, imagining his mouth on the velvet nape of his neck and his fingers in his sleek auburn hair? He slipped out of his clothes and knelt at Wesley’s feet, resting his bearded cheek against his lover’s bare lap. A beat passed, then another, until Will felt a tender hand brush his face, and he looked up into the limitless expanse of Wesley’s forgiveness.

 

Wes shook his head, the tiniest quirk of his lips driving Will to distraction.  _ I’d much rather be in bed with you than training to fight. _

 

_ By all means, don’t let  _ me _ stand in your way. _

 

Wes rolled his eyes, but his sweet smile widened, and his fingers tugged playfully at Will’s beard, and that was the signal ending the argument. Wesley’s hands slipped up into Will’s thick mop of hair, and Will pressed lingering kisses to the insides of Wesley’s thighs. Wes braced himself against the mattress as large hands slid under his legs, gripping and squeezing each pale cheek, and his breathless moans spurred Will on. Will’s tongue traced a delicious path along lean muscle until he hit the overly sensitive peach fuzz at the base of his lover’s cock. This was the point where Will always had to remind himself to  _ slow down _ , or they’d be finished far too soon; already, his hand had wandered down to ease some of his own arousal’s insistent ache, but how could he help it? He was lost the moment he fell to his knees, and was now faced with his beautiful, genius lover, naked and moaning at his touch.

 

Will kissed his way up the pulsing vein, intent on driving Wesley out of his mind. His lips wrapped around the head, then slid back down, swallowing the rigid shaft, while Wesley’s heavenly gasps set his blood on fire. 

 

_ Will...Will...so good...fuck…don’t stop... _

 

He had no intention of stopping. Will’s hands flowed like water, a glacial caress over Wesley’s overheated skin, frozen fire that soothed the urgency of Wesley’s ardor while feeding the flames. Wesley’s thighs suddenly tensed under Will’s touch, and his slender hands scrabbled to grab Will’s arms and pull him onto the bed. Will’s tongue moved swiftly from Wesley’s rigid cock to his honeyed mouth, his heated breath swallowing his lover’s cries.

 

Wesley reached down to grasp Will’s hand, guiding him to the hot center between his ass cheeks, gripping Will’s wrist as soft fingers slipped inside. His head fell back, long neck exposed, and Will bent to mouth his collarbone while his fingers continued their delicious exploration. Wes writhed against him for a moment, then without warning, rolled them both over and straddled Will’s hips. Will’s fingers slipped out of him, and Wes grasped his lover’s wrists and pinned them over Will’s head.

 

_ Stay. _

 

Will gazed up at him, chest heaving in anticipation.  _ Yes, sir. _

 

Wes considered him for a moment, and Will wished desperately to see into that gorgeous mind. His hands slid down Will’s arms, tickling down his sides and back up, tracing shivery patterns along his lover’s skin. Wes’ hips began a luscious rhythm, bucking his own arousal against Will’s cock, leaning back until his inner thighs were moistened by the leaking tip.

 

_ What do you want, Will? _

 

_ I want you to fuck me, baby. _

 

Will only called him that when he was so far gone that he didn’t care  _ how  _ he got release, only that he got it. Wesley hummed low in his throat, and Will wanted to bite the smirk from his plump lips. Slowly, almost lazily, he leaned over Will for the lube, taking his time until a pleading whimper escaped Will’s throat. He pressed a wet kiss to his lover’s mouth before scooting backward, nodding appreciatively when Will lifted his knees, spreading himself open. Wes drew his slick thumb and forefinger along the quivering center, pushing forward into dark velvet, and Will’s body tensed and relaxed, inviting him in. 

 

Will’s hips twisted and writhed as his lover worked, his mind wiped clean of everything that wasn’t heat and want and  _ Wes _ . Desire built and built in his belly, and it was both too much and not enough. He watched a bead of sweat roll down Wes’ temple, and, despite Wes’ order, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

 

Wes looked up sharply, but then his sweet face softened and he allowed Will to thumb the drop away. His hand stilled between Will’s legs, and he nuzzled into Will’s large palm, sucking one finger into his mouth and sending Will’s need through the ceiling. 

 

Before Will could even gasp, Wes’ cock pressed gently against him, and his gray-green eyes glazed over in ecstasy as he buried himself. Will greedily lapped up the sight of Wes working over him, sharp shoulders clenching and warm breath singing with every thrust. Then Wes tilted his hips the slightest bit, and lightning shot through Will’s thighs and pushed Wesley’s name from his throat.

 

_ Fuck, yes, baby, like  _ that.  _ Just like that. _

 

Wes’ thrusts came faster, harder, hands shaking where they pressed into Will’s hipbones. Will grasped his own swollen cock, struggling to match his lover’s pace. Wes slammed into him with a gasp, pulling out suddenly to spill over Will’s frantic movement. The added wet heat sent Will over the edge with a jolting cry that tapered off in a breathless, joyful laugh.

 

_ Holy shit, Wes; that was  _ incredible.

 

He felt Wes smile from his resting place against Will’s damp chest.  _ Well, at least there’s  _ something  _ I don’t need training for. _

 

Will accepted the admonition gracefully. There would be no more combat training, not for Will’s brilliant angel. Wesley dozed on top of him, all sweat-silk skin and thrumming heart, and Will knew that if ever there was a heaven, this would be it.


	4. Past IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One more intimate moment between Will and Wesley before life gets in the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's more smut in this one, but upcoming chapters will err more on the angsty side. As always, thank you to everyone taking the time to read my work. Please, please, please comment and let me know what you liked, what you didn't, and how I can improve. I don't have a beta, so I rely on you guys to point me in the right direction!

 

Past IV

 

Ensign Crusher was no stranger to scorn. He had always been too smart, too enthusiastic, too persistent. His looks didn’t help; the wide eyes, apple cheeks and bow lips that made Will’s blood spark worked against him, making it that much harder for others to take him seriously. The fact that he continually proved his worth meant very little to older officers who resented anyone younger and smarter than themselves.

 

Will advised him to ignore it, and he usually could, but that didn’t make it go away. All it meant was that Wesley’s hurt and resentment rolled together into a thorny ball along with the creeping suspicion that he didn’t belong here, that he was supposed to be doing something very different, but he didn’t know what. His unease simmered in his chest, and he was careful to mask it in public, especially on duty. When he was alone, those forbidden thoughts boiled and bubbled until they escaped, like a release valve whistling through his brain.

 

After yet another shift in which the captain brushed aside his novel suggestion for a tractor beam upgrade, only to have the same idea welcomed from an older officer, Wesley paced a sleepless orbit around Will’s quarters. He was hoping to bore his insomnia into submission, but it wasn’t working, and sometime around ship’s dawn Will got up to go to the bathroom. He took Wesley’s hand on his way back, reclined against the headboard and pulled Wes down to sit against him.

 

_ I didn’t mean to wake you. _

 

Will’s sleep-stained murmur brushed against his temple.  _ Have to get up soon, anyway. _ His fingers dug into Wes’s bare shoulders, just hard enough not to hurt.  _ Nightmares? _

 

_ Couldn’t sleep. _

 

_ You could ask your mother for a sedative. _

 

_ And miss you snoring? No way. _

 

_ I do  _ not _ snore. _ Large hands slipped down Wes’ arms, fingers pressing notes into taut skin. Bristles tickled against his nape as Will’s mouth closed on the crook of his neck and shoulder, pushing a moan from his lips. Wes wondered if this was how Will’s trombone felt, coaxed to life by touch and breath.

 

He reached up, slipping fingers over Will’s bearded cheek and nuzzling against the parts of his face he could reach. His body arched into Will’s strokes, clenched muscles left humming as Will’s hands brushed over them. His own hand wandered down to his sudden arousal, until Will stopped him with a low growl.

 

_ Let me. _

 

Wesley sank back into Will’s chest, a very pleasant drowsiness settling his restless thoughts. He watched through lowered eyelids as Will’s strong hands painted brushstrokes along his body, shifting to grip his cock just enough to draw him to the edge before retreating. Will’s voice washed over him in warm, soothing waves.

 

_ Love you all the time, sweetheart. Even when you have a bad day. _

 

_ Love you too. Thanks for...helping. _

 

Will chuckled and pressed a kiss to his head, his whiskered chin raising hairs along Wes’ nape.  _ My pleasure.  _ He paused his roaming hands, only starting up again when Wes arched his back, searching for Will’s touch. Calming his brain proved more difficult, and although Wes hated to break the dreamy silence, a part of him craved Will’s bedroom voice.

 

_ I sent in the new Academy application. _

 

Will’s answering tone swelled with equal parts confidence and pride.  _ You’ll get in. Third time’s the charm. _

 

_ Or third strike is out. _

 

Will hummed low into Wes’ auburn hair.  _ Think positive. _

 

_ I’m positive I may never get in. _

 

Will’s answering sigh ruffled his hair and sent lovely tingles along his spine.  _ I know you’re frustrated. You’ll get there, Wes, I promise. _

 

Wesley stayed silent. Getting to the Academy was the public, expected goal, the sole reason for all of his homework and projects and experiments, the hopeful end result of holding himself apart from his peers while standing squarely in the captain’s crosshairs. Any sane person would assume he would only go through all of that because he wanted it more than anything. 

 

But lately (longer than lately), part of his genius brain nagged at him, making him question his own motives and desires, and Wes was terrified of the answers. He was a scientist, an explorer; the only question he was supposed to care about in regards to the universe was  _ how _ . He had never been taught to ask  _ why _ .

 

He turned suddenly in Will’s arms, burying his face and his fears in the warm, solid crook of Will’s neck. He pushed firm kisses into Will’s throat, reasoning that as long as he kept kissing Will, he didn’t have to answer difficult questions. He sought to fill himself with Will’s voice and breath and body, to bury himself in all their secret places.

 

Without a word, Will followed his lead, limbs twining around Wesley, coaxing the sweetest moans from Wes’ mouth just to drown in them. Wes lay back in their sheets, pulling Will down to cover him, turning onto his stomach so Will’s heavy cock could rest against his ass. 

 

_ Distract me, Will. _

 

The soft huff of Will’s laugh danced up his spine, followed by the pressure of Will’s lips.  _ How about a bedtime story? _

 

Wes grinned into the pillow, shifting his hips to rub teasingly along Will’s body.  _ Yes, that’s what I want. A story. And make it quick; it’s almost morning. _

 

_ Hmm.  _ Will’s tender hands continued their earlier exploration, lingering purposefully along the cleft of his lover’s backside.  _ Once upon a time, there was a man… _

 

_ Ooh, this’ll be good. A rough, burly, manly-man? _

 

Will’s inching fingers retreated to land a light smack on that backside.  _ As a matter of fact, he was quite manly. Had a beard and everything.  _ He ignored Wes’ snicker in favor of tracing a deeper path inward.  _ He was so rough and burly, he thought he didn’t need anyone. He worked all the time, trying to fulfill himself with his career and seedy one-night stands. _

 

Wes frowned, plump lips dangerously close to pout territory, until Will leaned forward and kissed it away.  _ Is this story going somewhere? _

 

_ I’m just getting to the good part. One day this burly, tough, muscle-bound man… _

 

_ Muscle-bound? Seriously? _

 

_ Fine. This slightly squishy man  _ \- Wes laughed aloud, a sound so delightful that Will couldn’t even chastise him for it -  _ this man fell in love. _

 

Wes’ mouth dropped open on a gasp as Will’s fingers slipped inside. He arched up, open and eager, pushing back into the safety of Will’s arms.  _ More. _

 

_ More story? Sure. _

 

Will prided himself on his ability to multitask. One hand played in Wesley’s body, stretching and teasing to the tune of Wes’ ragged breath, while the other reached into the bedside table for a well-used vial of oil. Meanwhile, his mouth spun their beautiful fairy tale.

 

_ Everyone the man ever knew was colored in shades of gray. Boring, ambitious people who thought their work was far too important, people who had lives but never enjoyed living. The squishy man was like them, until he met… _

 

A beat passed while Will withdrew his hand, slicking his arousal and holding his lover’s hips steady and open. Wes urged along both his efforts and his story.  _ Until he met...? _

 

Will’s hips rolled forward, burying every inch of himself inside Wesley’s velvet heat. Their blended moans filled the room, a sweet melody to accompany the tale.

 

_ Until he met an angel. A beautiful, brilliant angel, shining brighter than a star with every color in the universe. _

 

Wesley pushed back into Will, finding their favorite rhythm.  _ The man has pretty high standards. _

 

_ No, he just found what he’d been looking for.  _ Will’s furred chest slid against Wesley’s back, his panting breath brushing Wesley’s neck with every thrust.

 

Wesley’s mind never stopped spinning, whirling with enough theories, equations and quandaries to drive one mad. Only when Will’s hands were on his body was he able to shut out the excess mental noise. When Will’s careful fingers slipped inside him, when his thick cock pressed deep, Wesley could finally calm his thoughts enough to focus only on each exhilarating sensation. His climax came in a sudden flood, followed closely by Will’s, and the next few moments found them basking in a damp, hazy afterglow.

 

For all his vaunted genius, there was only one thing that Wesley knew with absolute certainty, and it was that he and Will belonged together. While they were making love, while Will’s arms tightened around his waist and Will’s voice whispered desire in his ear, all of Wesley’s burdens fell away. No ship to save, no sneers to ignore, no captain to impress, no mother to protect, no dead father to live up to. Just him, and Will, and the stars streaking outside the window. 

 

_ The angel loved the man back, you know. _

 

_ Oh, I know. _

 

_ How does our story end, Will? _

 

_ How all stories should end. We lived happily ever after. _

 

Wesley twined his legs between Will’s, raising his hands to caress his lover’s smiling face. He brushed their lips together, and wanted nothing more than to stop time, to live in this moment forever. A seemingly impossible dream, but Wesley had never let the impossible stand in his way.


	5. Time Warp I and II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened between lost and found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really two that were too short to post separately, serving as a go-between from past to present. I know this section is sort of a choppy mess, and I'm not really happy with it, but I've been staring at it for weeks and feel like I just need to post it. If you've made it this far, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE give me some constructive feedback. I don't have a beta reader, so I'm relying on you guys to help me improve. Thank you so much to everyone reading - I hope it's worth your time!

 

Time Warp I 

 

They gave him the _Titan_ . She was gorgeous - state-of-the-art, a marvel of engineering, a marriage of sleek speed with impressive power. She was (with all due respect to the _Enterprise_ ) the best of the Fleet, with a crew to match.

 

Even so, Will couldn’t help a lingering cloud of regret. What good was a fancy new ship without his old shipmates? Engineering certainly wasn’t the same, not without Geordi and Data bustling around. Sickbay felt emptier without Beverly Crusher’s compassionate efficiency, and Will had to constantly remind himself that the center Bridge seat was now _his_. His only consolation was having Alexander Rozhenko over his shoulder; if he couldn’t have Worf as Security Chief, his son made a decent replacement.

 

Buried deeply beneath his conflicting emotions, Captain Riker reserved his sharpest heartache for Wesley. Wes had never stepped foot on the _Titan_ , but that didn’t stop Will from envisioning him everywhere. Each of Will’s new crew members was top in their field, expertly trained and battle-tested, but Will could only see them all as _notWesley_ . Captain Riker’s favorite mental exercise was _What Would Wes Do?_ \- and the answer was always the same: _I don’t know, because he’s not here._

 

As captain, Will had to force himself to stop holding everyone to Wes as the standard, because it was unfair to his crew and agony for him. His engineers weren’t to blame for not devising ingenious ship-saving devices on the fly, and it wasn’t his helmsman’s fault that piloting was his only talent. The ensigns were rigid and all-business when Captain Riker was on deck, and Will yearned all the more for one with twinkling hazel eyes and a lightning-flash grin.

 

Wesley had gone radio-silent when he left, but Will’s ears, eyes and heart stayed open for any news of him. He barely held himself back from interrogating every last one of the _Titan_ ’s visitors, from the esteemed Gamoran ambassador to the rough-edged freight manager from Biron IV. 

 

_Have you by any chance seen a beautiful auburn-haired man in your travels? Human, average height, eyes like the sea after a storm? You’d know him if he was smiling - the whole room would be glowing. Doesn’t ring a bell? If you happen to cross his path, would you mind telling him that the captain of the_ Titan _is desperately in love with him? Tell him I’m a fool, I should have held onto him with my last breath, and if it’s not too much trouble, could he please come home to me?_

 

The day Beverly Crusher arrived as a personal favor to run a conference with the med staff, even Will’s top-notch crew knew something was up. Their normally gregarious captain couldn’t sit still; he paced the Bridge, fingers tapping against his thigh, occasionally barking orders but more often seemingly lost in thought. The moment Dr. Crusher’s shuttle docked, Captain Riker took off like a shot, leaving his crew to ponder the juicy possibilities, which proved both entertaining and entirely off the mark.

 

In the shuttlebay, Beverly embraced him warmly, brushing away his profuse thanks for her help. “I was flattered you thought to ask me,” she half-joked, eyes shining like her son’s, deep blue in place of Wesley’s gray-green. She peered critically at him, her doctor’s training kicking in. “How’s your new ship, Will?”

 

Will considered lying, or at least sugar-coating, but since he had yet to meet a Crusher who didn’t see right through his bullshit, it really wasn’t worth the effort. “It’s not the _Enterprise_ ,” he admitted, and Beverly seemed to understand exactly what he meant.

 

“I know,” she said gently. She paused, weighing her next words. “I miss...I miss everyone being together, too.”

 

Over dinner that night, when they had run out of new gossip and old tales, Will stared into his wine glass and screwed up every ounce of his courage. His voice came out in a whisper, dragging the ghosts of the past with it. “Have you heard from him, Bev?”

 

She tilted her head to catch his eye. “Not directly. But - look at me, Will - I know he’s okay.”

 

Will’s fingers tightened around his glass stem. “But _how_ do you know?”

 

Beverly’s iron tone rang with certainty. “Because I’m his mother.” She raised a pointed eyebrow in Will’s direction. “Because I’ve loved him longer than anyone. Because if anything happened to him, I would feel it like a black hole in my heart.” Her slim hands - so like Wesley’s - clasped over her chest.

 

Will wasn’t convinced. “You really believe that?”

 

“Of course. And besides, he promised me he’d take care of himself.”

 

The subject hurt her, and Will was sorry for that, but he barreled on. “Then why doesn’t he call? Or write? Or... _something?_ ”

 

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s busy; you know how engrossed he gets when he’s learning something new.” A fond, proud smile lifted her lips. “I do get...signs...from him. Once in a while.”

 

Will’s hands left his glass to grip the table. “What do you mean?”

 

“Well, for example, it was Jack’s anniversary a few months ago. The day’s never passed without us either being together or communicating in some way. I didn’t expect to hear from him, but when I got off my shift, there was a bouquet of golden poppies in my quarters.” Reading Will’s confusion, she explained, “They’re native to Earth, specifically the North American west coast.”

 

Will wouldn’t allow himself to hope - not yet. “Bev, those could have come from anyone.”

 

“No.” She gave her copper curls an obstinate shake. “Jack and Wes used to pick them for me when we went hiking. They used to sneak around, giggling like I didn’t know exactly what they were up to.” Her face softened at the memory, and for a split second Will saw her son there, shy and sweet, and Will missed him so much he nearly cried. “I always pretended to be _very_ surprised when they presented the handful of flowers to me.” Her voice became rough for a moment, but she cleared her throat and went on. “It was our special ritual, just for our little family. Nobody else knew, not even...not even Jean-Luc. So you see, only Wes could have sent them.”

 

Will was almost ready to believe it, because if it was true, then Wesley could come home, too. “Was there a note? A delivery slip? Anything to indicate where they came from?”

 

Beverly gave another head shake. “Nothing. They were just there, like they appeared out of thin air. I even checked the door log - no one delivered them. And it’s not the first time something like that has happened.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Oh, just little things; they probably wouldn’t mean anything to someone else. But I can tell. I’ll be stuck on a difficult patient case, and then I’ll start thinking about him, some memory from when he was young, and the solution will be right there. Or I’ll misplace something and find it in my spare room; I keep his things in there for if - _when_ \- he comes back.”

 

Will sifted through his day-to-day routine, reaching back to find some sign from Wes, however obscure, but nothing turned up except for his rather vivid dreams, and he certainly wasn’t going to share _those_ with Dr. Crusher.

 

Beverly gave him a sad smile and a gentle pat on his arm. “He’ll come back, Will, in his own time.”

 

“How can you be sure?”

 

“Because there are people here who love him. And no matter how far he goes, he knows this is home.”

 

Will spoke in an ashamed whisper. “I drove him away, Bev.”

 

“Will Riker.” She had rarely spoken so sharply to her beloved child, but Will wasn’t her son. “You did no such thing. He needed to grow, to push himself, and he couldn’t do that here. When he sorts himself out, he’ll come back.”

 

“I do love him, Bev.”

 

Staring down at the table, Will missed her eye roll. “Yes, Will, I know. _Everyone_ knows.” He glanced up with a bashful smile, and Beverly’s eyes narrowed. “When he does come back, would you please remind him to spare a moment for his mother?”

 

Will’s bearded face broke into a dimpled grin that always made Wes blush, but it had zero effect on Beverly. “You have my word. I can never say no to a Crusher.”

  


Time Warp II 

 

Playing with time came easily, and Wesley had nothing but time. He floated between dimensions, watching the same events play out in a dizzying spiral of possibilities. He rode waves of time back and forth, delighted when he hit on his own human past. He watched the image of his father, brand-new to parenthood, stumbling into his room in the dead of night to lift him from his crib and soothe his plaintive cries. He saw his mother smile for the first time after Jack died - a hesitant, tiny lift of her lips as his small self built a holographic galaxy for her, explaining the movements of the planets with the gravity of a miniature professor. He rewound the scenes again and again and again, as many times as he wanted, until his heart felt full.

 

He found moments of his life with Will, but those scenes hurt in a vague, heavy way, leaving him feeling empty and confused. Will’s eyes sparkling ice-blue when they first met, the purse of his lips during their chess games, the solid comfort of their twined hands, skin pressed together in the dark. Wesley shied away from their parting; it had gutted him when it happened, and he had no wish to live it again.

 

For all of his talents manipulating time, Wesley could never identify the precise moment when he fell from human grace. Was it the first time he freed himself fully from the flow of existence, freezing phaser blasts and angry Cardassians on Dorvan V? Or was it earlier, when the Traveler guided him to open a door in spacetime for his mother to find her way home? Maybe it was the first time he met the mystical alien, risking the captain’s wrath and his own nameless fear to cling to this time-bending wizard from across the galaxy.

 

Or perhaps he fell without fanfare, no event or memory significant enough to notice. When Wesley first joined the Travelers, it took all of his effort to _not_ dwell on what he left behind, his last moments as merely human. His mother’s smile, proud but sad. The captain’s handshake, firm with finality. And Will...Will had parted from him with icy formality, because it was less painful to freeze a heart than to break it.

 

There were moments when Wesley didn’t think of Will at all. For the young Traveler, time was an abstract, at best, and letting his mind wander back to the human sphere brought more pain than pleasure. But sometimes, _sometimes,_ when he floated between dimensions, when his thoughts conjured quiet decks beneath his feet and his fingers ran across a ghostly, glowing helm console, he could _feel_ Will behind him, just over his shoulder, just out of reach. 

 

Using his powers took all of his concentration, and the other, more seasoned Travelers counseled him to forget his former life. _View it whenever you wish, but stop living in it._

 

But he couldn’t. He studied and practiced, honing his powers, becoming a part of a vast community of beings spread across multiple universes, all the while clinging to his humanity. He wasn’t the only Traveler struggling to let go, and he found solace in the others who clung to their past lives. He made friends, other nascent Travelers searching for answers, and found solace in their shared experiences.

 

One, a violet-skinned female from an unpronounceable world, frequently joined him on his Travels. Wesley stumbled over her name often enough that she finally agreed to go by Pom, after the pomegranate-like fruit she would conjure from her homeworld for a treat. In return, she made him try the ruby-red seeds, and laughed when Wesley grimaced at their tartness.

 

In Pom, Wes found a kindred spirit; she was friendly and skillful, if a bit mischievous, and their travels together were always fun. She rarely spoke without asking some thought-provoking question, challenging Wesley’s assumptions and pushing him to keep up with her. He erred in once telling her a tale about his time on the _Enterprise_ to distract her from a calculation he couldn’t seem to solve, and from then on she insisted on hearing every story he could remember from his human life.

 

“So the virus mimicked the symptoms of intoxication?”

 

“Yeah. Will - Commander Riker - was the last one infected.” Wes tried to calm the jump in his pulse at the thought of Will. “He got Data to Engineering, and we all worked to get the ship’s power back before the asteroid hit.” He looked away, hoping she hadn’t noticed his flush, but his companion didn’t miss much, and she latched on with her typical candor.

 

“Tell me about your Will.”

 

“He’s not mine.”

 

“You cling pretty strongly to something that’s not yours.”

 

“We were close...once.”

 

“You love him. He’s never far from your thoughts.”

 

“What, you’re a telepath now?”

 

“A somapath. As you know.”

 

He did know. Pom’s people could sense the tiniest physical changes in others, everything from lung function to blood flow. It made them excellent doctors. And negotiators.

 

“I _do_ love him.” Wes looked down at his hands, finding comfort in the lines in his palm, and the blue glimpse of human blood in his veins. “We...understand each other.”

 

“You mean he’s like you?”

 

Wes chuckled. “God, no. Will’s more sure of himself than I ever was. He can command an entire crew through a crisis, and you’ll never see him waver. He inspires people to be their best.”

 

“That’s great for a military commander, not a lover.”

 

Wes glared at her. “He _was_ my commander. It was my duty to follow his orders.”

 

“I’m sure. Were you madly in love with all your commanding officers?”

 

“Don’t be a jerk. Will wasn’t...he didn’t act like that when we weren’t on duty. At least not with me.” Wes looked down again, trying unsuccessfully to erase Will’s tender smile from his mind. He couldn’t explain to her how Will’s devotion made him strong, and Wesley’s spirit made Will sweet, and together they had been as close to heaven as humans were allowed.

 

Pom had the grace to look contrite. “We don’t have to talk about him if it upsets you.” She waved a hand, and the planet they had been viewing faded into a lovely stellar nursery. “Ooh, look at the pretty lights, Wesley.”

 

Wes laughed. “Cute.” He watched a swirl of dust dance around the edges of the nebula, and his voice was quiet when he spoke again. “Will looked at me differently. He always encouraged me to do what made me happy. And he worked as hard as I did to make those things happen. Whenever I felt stressed or frustrated, he would look at me and get this little twinkle in his blue eyes, and he’d smile just enough…”

 

Pom made a disgusted sound in her throat. “Please, no more. I don’t want my vomit to become part of a new star.”

 

Wes stuck his tongue out at her. “You asked.”

 

“And I’m sorry for it.” She peered at him, and Wes could swear her eyes turned blue for a fleeting moment. “It sounds like you made each other better - happier. Why would you give that up?”

 

“I had to.” He gestured to the newborn stars blooming like flowers around them. “For this.”

 

“You think you can’t live as a human and keep your Traveler powers? We’re not cloistered, Wesley. Plenty of Travelers keep a home base somewhere. You can still be a Traveler and get home in time for a romantic dinner with your dashing Starfleet officer.”

 

Wesley stared at her. He knew the universe was limitless - he had done enough stellar calculations to prove it. When he came fully into his Traveler powers, he quickly realized that he had tried to calculate the incalculable, and he had been willing to trade his human life with Will for the sheer wonder of experiencing infinity. Now, Wes stood at the edge of that bargain, matching his breath to the living pulse of the universe, and knew that infinity meant nothing if he couldn’t share it with Will.

 

“I am fortune’s fool,” he muttered, already sending his thoughts toward the Milky Way to find his love.

 

“Huh?” Pom raised a confused brow. 

 

“Nothing, just...I have to go.” He pecked her cheek in thanks. “I owe you, Pom.”

 

She waved a violet hand as he faded from their shared plane. “Yeah, you do. Someday, I want to meet the guy with eyes blue enough to pull you away from newborn stars. I hope he’s worth it.”

 

Wesley’s laughter echoed throughout the shimmering vastness of space-time. “He is.” 

  



	6. Present I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The more things change, the more they stay the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much to anyone reading this. I know I ask this with every chapter, but I really, REALLY would love some comments to help steer me in the right direction. I know this isn't my best work, but the words just aren't flowing easily these days and I'm trying to power through. I don't have a beta reader, and I know *someone* is reading this story (at least, that's what the counter says), so PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE let me know what you think!

 

Present I

 

When Will thought of how Wesley slipped past him, hidden in a heavy, hooded jacket among the rescued freighter crew, his gut burned with shame. How could he not have recognized the man he had loved half his life? Even when Wes stood a meter away from Will’s desk with the security chief ready to yank him out of the  _ Titan _ ’s Ready Room, Will had no faith that his love would ever return to him.

 

Chief Rozhenko was getting impatient. “Well? You insisted you had to speak to Captain Riker. So, speak.”

 

Shadowed by his hood, the figure turned his gaze from the smooth floor to the security chief’s face. “You’re Alexander, aren’t you? You used to be...smaller.” Will detected a trace of amusement in the stranger’s lilting voice, and something stirred in him that he couldn’t place.

 

Alexander shifted on his feet, one hand drifting imperceptibly toward the phaser at his waist. “Do I know you?”

 

That soft playfulness again, like light dancing on water. “We met, when we were all much younger. I knew your father better.”

 

Will should have been more alert, but something in the stranger’s manner put him at ease. The figure seemed to be purposely keeping his face from Will’s sight, but rather than alarm, Will felt a bubbling anticipation, waiting to unwrap this gift. 

 

His security chief was less entertained. “I have no patience for games, and right now you are a significant security risk. Either reveal yourself and your business, or you will be speaking to Captain Riker from a cell in the Brig.”

 

“Captain Riker…” The stranger murmured uncertainly, testing out Will’s title before bobbing his hood in approval. “Yes, that’s right - and about time, too.”

 

Chief Rozhenko looked to his captain, rare confusion darkening his ridged brow. The stranger did not appear threatening in any way, but that only made the Klingon more suspicious; it was so much harder to protect the ship from danger that he couldn’t see coming. Thankfully, the captain cleared his throat and mustered a more authoritative tone. “My security chief doesn’t care for riddles, and neither do I. I’m happy to speak to you once you show yourself.”

 

The stranger turned to face Will, his movements unhurried, almost lazy, as if he had all the time in the world. He finally lifted his head and hands, sliding his hood off in the same fluid motion, and in that instant, Will felt himself blessed by every star in the galaxy.

 

For here, at last, his deepest need and desire had been granted - Wesley stood before him, as lovely and luminous as when he manned the helm of the  _ Enterprise _ . He had aged, beautifully so, and Will drank in the details - a hint of a smile-crease around his sparkling eyes, an inch or so of lanky height, mahogany hair falling over his forehead and brushing just past his ears. Heedless of his Security Chief standing nearby, Will nearly tripped over his own feet in his rush to cover the distance between them, hardly daring to believe it was only a few feet and not innumerable layers of space-time.

 

Wesley lifted his arms just as Will reached him, making a tangle of arms and hands, pressing together tightly enough to steal breath from their lungs. Wesley buried his face in Will’s broad shoulder - his favorite spot, still solid and strong enough to shield him from himself. Will cupped his head, running his nose along Wesley’s hair, inhaling the scent of stardust. 

 

A familiar  _ ha-rumph  _ made Will’s arms tighten even more protectively around Wes, but it was only Alexander, skepticism written all over his stern face. “Captain, you are...familiar...with this person?”

 

Will’s face split in a wide grin and he felt Wes smile into his shoulder, while Alexander crossed his arms, clearly not amused. “Yes, Chief, very much so.” Will pulled away just enough to look his love in the eye, and Wes sparkled back at him, reaching a hand up to caress Will’s bearded cheek. “This is Wesley Crusher, and...and he’s mine.”

 

Wes raised a teasing eyebrow. “Likewise, Captain.” He glanced over his shoulder at the large Klingon. “I admired your father greatly, Alexander. If you’re anything like him, the  _ Titan  _ is the safest ship in the Fleet.”

 

Chief Rozhenko frowned menacingly, refusing to be won over by flattery, and Will heard Worf’s tone in his son’s warning. “With all due respect, Captain, this person is claiming to be someone who has been missing for nearly a decade.” He shot Wesley a pointed glare. “He may not be who he says he is, sir.”

 

Wesley closed his eyes briefly, his brow tightening in a familiar gesture of annoyance. “Run a DNA scan if you like, Chief. I assume my profile is still on record somewhere.”

 

Will couldn’t tear his eyes from the sight of Wesley standing before him, and at the sound of that sweet, clear voice, he suddenly needed them to be left alone. He waved distractedly in Alexander’s direction. “It’s alright, Chief.” Wes turned to him again, and a grateful smile danced on his lips. Will smiled back. “We have ways of knowing each other.”

 

That made Wesley laugh, and Will’s heart sang to the tune. Alexander gave another Worf-like huff and marched stiffly from the room.

 

“Sorry for the dramatic entrance.” Wes lowered his head slightly in atonement, but the emerald twinkle in his eyes belied his words.

 

Will brushed a lock of hair off Wes’ forehead, keeping one hand firmly on his trim waist. “I would expect nothing less. I’m surprised you didn’t arrive by warp bubble.”

 

Wes scoffed, and suddenly he seemed eighteen again, playing with the  _ Enterprise _ ’s engines, driving Geordi up a wall and making Will love him more with each new miracle that sprang from his beautiful mind. 

 

“You can’t travel in a warp bubble, Captain.” His sea-green eyes tightened, angel’s lips turned down in contrition. “I  _ am _ sorry for barging in. And for assuming you still…” His sunbeam face dimmed, and Will pulled him closer, needing the light to return. 

 

“I still what?” He murmured, lips skimming along Wes’ smooth cheek.

 

“It’s just, well, I came a pretty long way, so if you don’t want, you know…” He stammered into Will’s broad chest, where he used to love resting his head, especially when they were both exhausted and damp and flushed, and there was no question that they belonged to each other. Joining Will on the  _ Titan  _ had seemed like such a perfect solution when Pom had suggested it, but being surrounded by Starfleet for the first time in years awakened all of Wesley’s childhood insecurities. His love for Will was the shining, golden cord tying him to humanity, but what if Will had already let go?

 

Then he looked up into Will’s eyes, and fell, as he always did, into that blue tenderness that he knew was just for him. Will’s face glowed with wondrous disbelief, his hand slipping from Wesley’s face to the nape of his neck, and then Will was kissing him, and the uncertainty borne of their long separation was wiped away. 

 

Math genius though he was, Wesley couldn’t possibly calculate how many kisses he and Will had exchanged since they first met. What were the variables for such an equation? Did dream kisses count? Were pecks separate from pushed-into-the-turbolift-wall kisses? What about shower kisses? Falling-to-his-knees kisses? Was beard burn the result of one kiss or several? As the press of their lips deepened, drowning them both in passion and joy and gratitude,  _ this  _ kiss outranked any that had come before. 

 

They pulled apart only to breathe, but Will kept his arms firmly around Wesley’s waist. He was almost afraid to speak, not quite trusting that he wasn’t the victim of some cruel dream or holodeck malfunction. Still, Wes had been gone for so long, and there were questions that needed answering. “Do you have to go back to the Travelers soon?”

 

Wes shook his head, bow lips curled up in a distractingly impish smile. “No. Believe it or not, it took me this long to realize that I can be a Traveler from anywhere.”

 

“Good. Then you’ll stay here.”

 

Wesley’s laugh lit up his face, and Will fell for him all over again. “I’m not in Starfleet, Captain. You can’t tell me what to do.” His teasing voice sobered as he glanced toward the Ready Room door. “Although, I don’t think your security chief is quite as thrilled as you that I’m here.”

 

“Well, lucky for you Chief Rozhenko  _ is  _ in Starfleet, and I can absolutely tell  _ him  _ what to do.” He held Wes’ hands in his own, plans spilling from his mouth with all the confidence of command. “You’ll stay with me. In my quarters. You can have full access to the ship - I’ll alert the crew. We’ve had a recurring issue with a glitch in the dilithium levels, so if you don’t mind taking a look at it...and you can come to all senior staff meetings...and…”

 

Wes’ hazel eyes widened in alarm, and he moved his hands up to grasp Will’s arms. “Will,  _ slow down. _ I’m not here for Starfleet - I’m here for  _ you _ .” Worry crept into his gaze, turning his gaze the deep green-blue of a storm-tossed ocean. “I don’t want to cause any trouble. I know you need to run everything by Starfleet; I don’t think the admiralty is going to accept a random civilian taking up residence here. Particularly one who can bend spacetime.”

 

“They will if I tell them to.”

 

Wes raised an eyebrow. “Will…”

 

“Ok, ok, I get it. You’re not in Starfleet, and staff meetings are usually boring, anyway.” Wes opened his mouth again, but Will beat him to it. “And yes, there are regulations to follow. But it’s still  _ my  _ ship, and I say you can do whatever you want here.”

 

“As what? In what capacity?”

 

“As my partner, in every way.”

 

Wes stared at him. Could it possibly be that easy? So many years they had been apart, drifting through a life that felt aimless without the other. Wesley, at least, had wrestled with lofty questions of duty and identity, tearing his own heart to shreds over the human condition, when the answer was as simple as  _ Will and I are better together.  _ His heart lifted, and he nodded into Will’s shining eyes. __

 

Will beckoned to him, enfolding him in loving arms. “Yes,” he murmured. “My partner. God, Wes, how could you not know that? Whatever it is that brought you home, I’m so grateful for it.”

 

Wes buried his face in Will’s neck, filling his lungs with the heady scent of bergamot from Will’s cologne. “And Chief Rozhenko?”

 

“I’ll handle him. You just tell me what you need for your...Traveler jobs.”

 

Wesley rolled his eyes into Will’s collar, careful to avoid scraping against the row of metal pips. “It’s more of a calling, really. I’m not a contractor. Although,” he lifted his head and flashed Will’s favorite grin, “I’m happy to take a look at those dilithium levels, if your engineers don’t mind.”

 

Will kissed the tip of his nose. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”  


	7. Present II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wes gets acquainted with the Titan, and Worf's son takes his job a bit too seriously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a while since I've updated, but I hit a bit of a writing slump and really struggled to get out of it. I really am enjoying writing about Wes and Will's relationship as they mature, and it's fun to break out of the constraints of canon. I do ask (ok, I'm shamelessly begging) for comments, because I don't have a beta reader, so your comments are all I have to point me toward what you like and don't like about the story. Thank you to everyone who continues to read my work - you motivate me to keep writing!

 

Present II

 

As much as Will wanted to drag Wesley straight to his quarters -  _ their  _ quarters - and spend the rest of the day testing the mattress, he settled for acquainting Wes with the ship that they would now both call home. Wesley was suitably impressed, diving into familiar technical territory with each crew member they met. Will stood by, love and pride beaming from his bearded face, and the crew remarked privately that the captain’s newly-arrived companion certainly brought out the best in him.

 

The medical staff were particularly charmed by the son of the famous Beverly Crusher. Lt. Ogawa, having worked directly with the elder Crusher, could have reminisced for hours over her time on the  _ Enterprise _ , but Will eventually laid a gentle hand on Wes’ arm and steered him out of Sickbay. Wes’ sweet face had softened, hazel eyes focused on some deep thought, and Will suspected it had nothing to do with the  _ Titan _ ’s upgraded medpods.

 

“You liked seeing Nurse Ogawa again, huh, sweetheart?”

 

Wesley pulled himself out of his reverie, cheeks plumping in a beatific smile. “I had assumed the only person I knew on the  _ Titan  _ was you. I didn’t expect…” He seemed at a rare loss for words, but recovered quickly. “She seemed happy to see me.”

 

“Of course she was.” Will took Wesley’s hand in his. “The  _ Enterprise  _ was a family, Wes. You were...you  _ are _ ...part of that. An important part. Speaking of which, I know a famous doctor who’s going to be overjoyed that you’re back.”

 

Wesley’s lightning grin flashed, a mischievous glint in his eye, and Will sighed in relief.  _ There he is - there’s my angel _ . “I want to surprise her. Maybe we could…”

 

“ _ A-hem. _ ”

 

Wes pulled his hand discreetly from Will’s, and the captain turned in irritation, ready to snap at the unfortunate crew member who had interrupted them. He relaxed slightly at the sight of  Alexander Rozhenko, standing at attention a respectful distance away. “Something I can help you with, Chief?”

 

“You’re needed in your Ready Room, Captain. Admiral Lynch is on subspace and requesting to speak with you.”

 

Will frowned. “You could have paged me, Chief.”

 

“I apologize, sir. The Admiral needs to discuss a matter of…” He glanced briefly in Wesley’s direction. “...ship security. She has requested that I attend as well.”

 

“Alright, just give me a minute.” Will turned to Wes to explain, but Wesley had been raised in Starfleet and knew when work took precedence over play.

 

“It’s ok, Will. I’ll hang out in your quarters until you’re free.”

 

Alexander kept his gaze firmly on his captain. “Sir, I recommend Mr. Crusher have an escort to your quarters.”

 

Wes looked up sharply, and Will’s eyes narrowed to icy pinpricks. “Excuse me, Mr. Rozhenko?”

 

“As Chief of Security, I believe I am responsible for any unknown elements aboard the ship.”

 

It only took two long, measured steps for Will to get within arm’s-length of Worf’s grown son, and his voice lowered dangerously. “And as ship’s captain, I believe I’ve made my opinion on this matter  _ abundantly  _ clear.”

 

 Alexander was smart enough to lower his own glare. “Yes, sir.”

 

“Good. Let’s go.” Will turned back to make his apologies to his lover, but Wes seemed lost in thought again, two small lines appearing between his brows. He came out of it just long enough to wave distractedly in Will’s direction.

 

“It’s fine, Will. Just...don’t keep the admiral waiting.” A dark look came over his face, clearing as fast as a summer storm. He turned to walk in the opposite direction toward the turbolift, pausing to toss out a quizzical piece of advice. “Oh, and Will?  _ Watch your temper _ .” Before Will could ask him what the hell he meant by that, the turbolift doors opened and closed, and Wesley disappeared - this time, just to a different deck instead of a new dimension.

 

***

 

Wesley’s warning turned out to be good advice, because not two minutes into his conversation with the admiral, Will was ready to throw his security chief through a wall.

 

“Chief Rozhenko contacted me out of understandable concern, Captain.” Admiral Lynch leaned forward over the polished surface of her desk, hands spread in a deceptively placating gesture. “The situation is a bit...unusual.”

 

“I beg to differ, Admiral. There are plenty of captains in committed relationships with civilians. Quite frankly, sir, I don’t believe this is any of the Fleet’s business.”  _ Or Alexander’s,  _ Will’s mind bristled in the Klingon’s direction.

 

“Ah, but that’s just it, Captain. If I understand correctly, Mr. Crusher is not just  _ any  _ civilian, is he?”

 

Will considered several ways he could answer that question, and decided to go with disarming. “Actually, no. He was a Starfleet officer when he was younger - the youngest field officer in the Fleet, as a matter of fact. He certainly understands shipboard operations and protocol.” He smiled charmingly, which took some effort considering his homicidal train of thought.

 

Lynch was not charmed. “I took the liberty of doing a brief background check on your...friend, Captain. A Traveler - how interesting.” Which was Fleet Command for:  _ My underlings have an entire case file on him, so don’t even try the innocent act.  _

 

“Then you already know Mr. Crusher is well acquainted with the Fleet.” Will paused, trying to frame his next words in a way that wouldn’t result in career suicide. “Forgive me, Admiral, but it hardly seems fair to judge someone you haven’t even met.”

 

“Well, lucky for you, Captain, it so happens that I’ll be passing through your sector in the next week or so, and I was able to rearrange my schedule for a quick visit to the  _ Titan _ . I’ll assess for myself the security risk of having a Traveler on board.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, and Will had the distinct sense of a first-year cadet being dressed down by the brass. “I’m looking forward to meeting Mr. Crusher in person, and I should warn you, Captain Riker - I’m an excellent judge of character.”

 

The screen went dark, and Will stared at his reflection long enough to rein in his outrage before turning on Alexander. “What. Were. You. Thinking?”

 

The Klingon had the decency to look as apologetic as his natural glower allowed. “Forgive me, Captain. I was only worried about…”

 

“...about matters that are  _ not  _ your concern! I will not tolerate having my authority undermined on my own ship, by my own command staff!” Will took a breath, and suddenly felt tired. Wesley was  _ home _ ; after years apart they were finally together again. Why couldn’t Worf’s son understand what a miracle that was?

 

Chief Rozhenko clasped his hands at his waist, his voice rumbling toward the floor. “Again, my apologies, Captain, but an unknown entity with Q-like powers residing on the ship is  _ exactly  _ my concern.”

 

“Wesley Crusher is  _ not  _ unknown, Chief!”

 

“He is to me, sir.”

 

Will paused, realization dawning through his ire. Of course Wesley was a stranger here; he and Alexander had only met briefly on the  _ Enterprise _ . To  _ that  _ crew, Wesley’s brilliance had been a commonplace, everyday occurrence. Worf himself wouldn’t bat an eye at Wes’ Traveler abilities, but Alexander couldn’t tell the difference between Q’s mischief and Wesley’s gifts.  

 

Will took a deep breath before opening his mouth again. “Alexander, listen to me. I promise you that Wesley will fit in here if you just give him a chance. Don’t you remember anything about him from the  _ Enterprise _ ?”

 

Alexander tilted his ridged head in thought. “Not much, sir. Mr. Crusher is older than me - I believe he was already at the Academy when I joined my father on the ship. I think I met him once or twice, and I’d occasionally hear people mention him.” His face brightened suddenly. “I remember Dr. Crusher would tell me stories about him, usually when I was giving Father a hard time.”

 

Will chuckled. “Yes, well, Wes may have once been a model officer, but he wasn’t above worrying his mother nearly to death. I think he’s matured a bit since then.” He paused and ran a hand through his thick hair. “And now he’ll have to impress Admiral Lynch.”

 

Alexander looked appropriately abashed. “I apologize again, Captain. I never meant to undermine you, I swear, sir.”

 

Will waved him away. “It is what it is. I’d better go and tell Wes to shine his boots.” He headed for the door, motioning to Alexander to go first. “I think I’ll take the rest of the shift off, Chief. Let me know if anything comes up - by communicator, if it’s not too much trouble.”

 

The hint of a smile tugged at the Klingon’s mouth. “Certainly, Captain. Please give Mr. Crusher my regards.”

 

***

 

Captain Riker hurried to his quarters as fast as decorum would allow, but when he finally burst through the door, Wesley was nowhere to be found. He searched the entirety of his stateroom with his heart in his throat, only reassured by the fact that Wes’ small tote bag was sitting on the dining table. A computer search confirmed that he wasn’t on the ship, and Will paced his rooms and tried to remember that his lover could come and go as he pleased.  _ All the same, he could have left a note _ , Will thought grumpily. 

 

A flicker of light later, Wesley phased into view wearing simple black pants and a fitted sweater instead of his heavy freight crew gear. The grin he aimed at Will erased any annoyance the older man may have felt; as always, Will collected Wesley’s smiles like Christmas ornaments. 

 

“Sorry; I tried to get back before you.”

 

Will tut-tutted at him. “Shouldn’t a Traveler be better at time management?”

 

Wes laughed, closing the space between them and settling into Will’s waiting arms. “When will the Admiral be here?”

 

Will stared down at him. “How did you know - you know what, never mind. Lynch gets here in a week. She was very... _ insistent  _ on meeting you.”

 

“To interrogate me, no doubt.” Wesley sighed, looking more irritated than alarmed. He disentangled himself from Will and looked toward the comm panel. “Do you mind if I make a subspace call to the  _ Pasteur _ ? I wanted to surprise my mother, but I think she’d rather know as soon as possible that I’ll be staying.”

 

“Wes, you don’t have to ask.” Will headed for his desk, pulling out the cushioned chair and motioning toward the screen.

 

Wes followed, placing a light kiss on Will’s lips. When he pulled away, the playfulness in his eyes had been replaced by a deeper joy, gem-hued bursts of green and brown replacing the usual earth tones in his hazel eyes. Staring at Will, his heart felt grounded and sure, as solid as the mountains from the Alaskan childhood Will described to him. He wanted to cover Will with all the strength of their connection, to wrap his love in a bow-topped box and gift it to this man. Despite his myriad technical talents, Wes had never been much of a poet, so he simply said, “I love you, Will.”

 

Will stared back at him with wonder in his sky-blue eyes. “Love you back, sweetheart.” He shook his head and reached out to press Wesley’s cheek into his palm. “I still can’t believe you’re back - you have no idea how grateful I am for that.” He reluctantly dropped his hand and began turning away. “I’ll give you some privacy.”

 

Wes slipped his own hand into Will’s to stop him. “No, stay. This’ll be fun.” His grin flashed again, making Will marvel that a smile could once again transform Wesley into the beautiful young ensign he fell in love with. Wes sat in the proffered chair and began typing at the comm panel; a moment later, an unknown officer with lieutenant commander pips appeared on the screen. 

 

“Hello,  _ Titan.  _ This is Communications Officer Morsa speaking. May I help you?”

 

Wes frowned slightly at the stranger. “I need to speak to Captain Crusher, please.”

 

“Mmhm. And whom shall I say is calling?” The man seemed bored, and Wesley’s sunny demeanor quickly turned sour.

 

“Tell her a Traveler is calling, and I’d like to know if she still has my old baseball glove.”

 

That at least sparked a confused look. “Um, very well, sir. Just a moment.”

 

Wes sat back and crossed his arms peevishly, tilting his head when Will chuckled behind him. “What’s so funny?”

 

“I love your pout. No wonder your mother spoiled you rotten.”

 

“I do  _ not  _ pout.” The screen flickered, Wes sat back up, and a moment later Beverly Crusher’s flushed, breathless face appeared.

 

“ _ Wesley?!  _ Oh, my god - it  _ is  _ you!” She brought both slim hands to her face before composing herself. “Of course you’d visit the  _ Titan _ first _.”  _ She spotted Will over Wes’ shoulder and give him a triumphant smirk. “Do I know my kid, or what?”

 

Will bowed his head graciously. “That you do, Doctor.”

 

“Mom, I’m not visiting.” He gave a sly smirk at his mother’s dismayed expression. “I’m staying.”

 

Beverly Crusher’s mind was nearly as quick as her son’s, but it still took a moment for the news to sink in. When it did, her hands returned to her porcelain cheeks, and mother and son traded joyous, sparkling smiles. “Oh, Wes, I can’t believe...that’s wonderful.” She frowned slightly, maternal concern dimming her features. “Does that mean you can’t be…”

 

Wesley shook his head, quick to allay her fears. “No, no, I still get to be a Traveler. I’ll just work out of the  _ Titan,  _ that’s all.” He hesitated, still uncertain of his status, even after Will’s reassurances. “Will talked to Admiral Lynch, and she’ll be coming soon to...um...meet with me.”

 

Beverly’s frown deepened, shoulders stiffening into the affronted stance she had always taken when she felt her beloved offspring had been wronged. “I know Lynch - she’s a cold-hearted dictator. I’ll speak to Jean-Luc; perhaps he can convince her to…”

 

“ _ Mom _ .” Wes didn’t try to hide his exasperation, and Will bit back a laugh, shaking his head at how quickly the good doctor turned her grown son into a petulant child. “It’s  _ fine.  _ Will and I can handle her.” 

 

Beverly gave a rueful laugh. “Sorry.” Her eyes shimmered and softened, taking in her son who was lost to her for so long. “I’ll expect to see you in person soon, but for now...you have Will.”

 

Unconsciously, Will put a hand to Wes’ back, feeling his palm pulse with the thump of Wesley’s heart. “Don’t worry about the admiral, Bev. We’ve got it.”

 

Her blue eyes flicked to meet Will’s for half a second before returning to her son’s face. “I’m sure you do. You will let me know how it goes, won’t you?” 

 

Wes nodded. “Of course, Mom. Meanwhile, Will’s going to show me the ropes on this fancy ship of his.” He leaned in conspiratorially over the desk top and lowered his voice to a stage whisper. “I hear it’s  _ even better  _ than the  _ Enterprise _ .”

 

Beverly wagged a finger. “Don’t let Jean-Luc hear you say that.” She sighed happily, beaming back at Wesley’s bright grin. “I’m so thankful you’re back, Wes. And I’m glad you have Will.”

 

“Me too, Mom. Love you.” Wesley spoke quietly, sincerity replacing the mischief in his voice. 

 

“Love you, too, son.” Beverly blew him a quick kiss, and Wes reached out and ended the call. 

 

Will smiled down at him. “That went well.”

 

“Yes, it did.” Wes peered up at his lover, suspicion sharpening his angelic features. “Have you and my mother been gossiping about me?”

 

Will felt his cheeks color. “I may have asked her once or twice if she’d heard from you.” He pulled Wes to standing, and Wesley immediately wrapped his arms around Will’s waist, resting his head on his lover’s broad chest. Will held him tightly, tracing the line of Wesley’s back up to his sharp shoulder blades, needing to touch him, to convince himself Wes was real.

 

Wesley shifted against him, looking up and worrying at his bottom lip. “I tried to leave little...hints, here and there. For both of you.” He pressed a soft hand against Will’s bearded cheek. “I dreamt about you. I wanted you to know…”

 

He looked down, the sparkle in his eyes dimming with consternation, and Captain Riker certainly couldn’t allow  _ that _ . “Wesley, look at me.” The young Traveler glanced back up, and Will cupped his chin in one large hand. “None of that matters now. You’re here, and we’re together.” His eyes narrowed to blue shards, and a rough edge cut through his gentle tone. “I lost you once. I won’t let it happen again.”

 

Wesley smiled, and the universe smiled with him.

 


	8. Present III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunion smut, a Scottish legend, and some Traveler talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the inevitable sex-after-ten-years-apart scene. Enjoy!

 

Present III

 

Their first night back together seemed to last for endless, ecstatic hours. Will never understood how ten empty years were refilled in one blissful dreamtime, but Wesley seemed to take it in stride. They ate, and talked, and kissed, and Wesley’s celestial spark danced around Will’s northern light until the entire room glowed.

 

Wes finally stood from the dining table and took Will’s hand; he and Will had forever to talk, and his human senses were demanding attention. “I think it’s bedtime, Will,” he murmured, nodding toward the open door of the bedroom.

 

Will’s pulse jumped the way it always did at the hunger in Wesley’s voice. His body was certainly willing, but an unfamiliar hesitation nagged at his mind. “Wes, wait.”

 

Wesley pulled back, irritation tugging at his lips. “Something wrong?”

 

Will sighed. “It’s just...I still can’t believe you’re really here, and I’m not - I’m not the same person I was a decade ago.”

 

Wes’s eyes narrowed, and Will couldn’t believe he had gone so long without that Earth-hued gaze. “In what way?”

 

“Well, in lots of ways. I’m a hell of a lot older, for one.”

 

“Aren’t we all.”

 

Will reached up and ran a finger along Wes’ unlined cheek. “Yeah, well, apparently Travelers don’t age much - if at all.”

 

Wesley laughed, that shining, infectious joy skimming along Will’s skin. His face quickly turned serious, but Will distrusted the glint in his eyes. “Can I ask you something?”

 

“Anything.”

 

Wes leaned in, close enough to brush their noses together. “Are you still my Will?”

 

“Forever.”

 

Wesley pressed a smoldering kiss to Will’s mouth, sliding his hands along the zippered front of Will’s uniform. “Then let me tell you a story.”

 

“A...what?” Will’s senses were becoming more clouded with every inch of Wesley’s fingers. Wes laughed and tugged him through the bedroom door, hazel eyes burning a brand onto Will’s heart.

 

“When we lived with my mother’s nana on Caldos, she used to tell me old myths and legends at bedtime.”

 

“You’re bringing up your mother’s nana  _ now? _ ”

 

Wes walked them back to the bed, deftly stripping Will of his uniform jacket while he kicked off his own shoes. “Focus, Will,” he purred.The fireworks show of a newborn star flashed through his mind, but he was reminded in that moment that nothing lit a fire in his body the way this man did - as Pom put it, his dashing Starfleet officer.

 

He continued the story while guiding Will to sit back against the headboard, then climbed up to kneel facing him on the bed. “Her ancestors were from Earth, from the islands of Shetland.” He paused on a deep sigh, as Will leaned forward and pressed his bearded face into his lover’s neck. The embers in his belly flared at Will’s touch, and his hands shook with the rush of human blood through his veins.

 

Will ran his tongue along the underside of Wes’ jaw just to hear him moan. “Is this Terran geography lesson going somewhere?”

 

“She told me about...about…” His voice became muffled in his haste to remove his own shirt, until Will pulled the hem over his head and tossed it across the room.

 

“About what?”

 

Wes eased Will’s uniform jacket off his shoulders, then his black undershirt. His breath caught at the sight of Will’s bare chest, all broad muscles and coarse hair, and two delicious buds that hardened under Wesley’s fingers. He wrapped his legs around Will’s waist and pressed their bodies flush, twin heartbeats sending vibrations through his core. 

 

He cradled Will’s face, captivated by his ice-blue gaze, and projected a stray thought toward the Travelers:  _ Totally worth it _ . “Once upon a time…”

 

Will laughed, mouth open and wet and temptingly close, but Wesley refused, with great effort, to take the bait.

 

“Once upon a time, northern Scotland was home to creatures called selkies.” He shifted up on his knees just enough to help Will kick out of his pants, then arched his back so Will could slide his own pants over his hips, deliberately pressing his large palm against Wesley’s overheated skin.

 

_ Be patient,  _ Wes had to keep telling himself.  _ We have all night. We have forever.  _ “The selkies were skin-changers; they lived as seals in the water, but on land they shed their seal skin for their human form underneath.”

 

Will’s mouth was everywhere, breath already shallow and eyes blown to icy shards. He clutched Wes to him, tightly enough to feel lean muscle responding to his touch. His lips skimmed along Wes’ sweet face, down the curve of his neck and into the sharp valley of his collarbone. “Yes,” he murmured. “Human forms are  _ much  _ better.”

 

Now it was Wesley’s turn to laugh. “One-track mind,” he scolded, rocking slightly in Will’s lap, sliding their arousals together and relishing the whimper Will made against his shoulder. Yes, being human was much, much better.

 

“A selkie would stay in human form to be with the one they loved,” he continued the story, his voice turning rougher with Will’s attentions. “But they never forgot that they came from the sea, and sometimes they’d return there to live in their seal skin.” He paused, hesitant to mar their reunion with a sad ending. “Their loved ones would wander the shoreline, hoping to catch a glimpse of them - to convince them to be human again.”

 

Will had never like parables, and this one hit a bit too close to home. He growled softly and gave Wes’ firm backside a warning squeeze. “You’ve always  _ been _ human.” He softened his tone, letting himself drown in all the love he had kept locked safely away since Wesley ceased to be the  _ Enterprise _ ’s young, brilliant prodigy. Traveler or not, Wes had the same eyes, brown and green and gold, like Denali in summer. The same bow lips, turned up in that lush, apple-cheeked grin. The same skin, warm and flushed and shivering under Will’s fingertips. “I looked for you everywhere,  _ selkie _ .” 

 

“And I came back for you, Will.” Wesley lay back, tugging Will down to lay over him. “You make being human a good thing.”

 

One of Will’s large hands smoothed down his lover’s body, and he nearly cried at the sincerity in Wesley’s sun-bright voice. Will wanted to dive into that voice, to climb up every stardusted word until he reached the heavens. Ensign or angel, Traveler or selkie, Wes was still the man he loved, and that was, indeed, a very good thing.

 

It was second nature for Wesley to love Will completely, for his blood to rise under the blue flame of Will’s eyes, and that never changed no matter how many layers of spacetime separated them. Wesley sank into the sheets, voicing his need through deep sighs and stretched muscles, letting Will bend him forward and show him all the love he had missed.

 

The heat of a supernova could never compare to the way Will’s lips set fire to his skin.  _ There, and there, and...oh...right there. _

 

Controlling time was exhilarating, but it couldn’t match Will’s tender fingers as they inched past a tight ring of muscle to pet deep inside him. Will panted into his throat, murmuring his own desperate desire.  _ Relax for me, baby. Fuck, Wes, it’s been so long. _

 

In his Travels, Wesley had floated between planets and asteroid belts across every galaxy, but nothing sent him into orbit the way Will did when his cock pushed him open, drawing out his cries with each satisfying thrust.  _ Oh, yes, fill every empty space inside me.  _ He sat up suddenly, scrambling to his hands and knees to welcome Will deeper, body arched against Will’s sweat-slick thighs. One of Will’s strong hands kneaded his lower back, pressing the pads of his fingers into velvet skin and quivering muscles.

 

They fell easily into a familiar rhythm, this consummation of their reunion finally setting the world right. Years of emptiness and self-doubt were wiped away, and Wesley understood with shining clarity the difference between  _ watching  _ and  _ feeling _ . Travelers watched, observed, bound by a universal Prime Directive that, unlike Starfleet, they slavishly followed. Passivity was not in Wesley’s nature; he and Will were matched in that, as much as in their devotion to each other.

 

Will wanted to give Wesley every bit of himself, and when their bodies joined he was delighted to discover that, even now, Wes couldn’t get enough of him. It was a game they used to play -  _ moremoremore  _ until Will declared he was spent, and Wes would tease him to life again with  _ come on, Will, just one more time.  _ A decade had done nothing to cool Wesley’s enthusiasm; he still made love like wildfire, white-hot and ravenous and devastating.

 

***

 

With the urgency quieted, if not entirely tamed, they each took stock of the other, counting the unfamiliar details wrought by a decade apart. Despite Will’s earlier assertion that Travelers didn’t age, Wesley  _ had  _ changed, and Will noted each difference as the night wore on. His plump cheeks were just a bit leaner, his wayward hair no longer slicked to helmeted Starfleet standards (although considering their exertions, his hair didn’t stand much of a chance anyway). Here and there Will discovered scars he didn’t recognize, and Wesley refused to explain. Will ran his tongue along one thin, pale line just under Wes’ ribcage, making him squirm.

 

“Cut that out.”

 

“How’d you get this one?”

 

Wes shook his head, a familiar stubbornness settling in his face. “Doesn’t matter.” One corner of his bow lips curled upward, fingers trailing playfully through Will’s chest hair. “It’s been quite a while, you know. I could probably use more practice.” He bucked against Will, one leg curling around his lover’s hip.

 

Will gazed at him quietly, reminding himself that Wesley was  _ here _ ; he was here and he wasn’t going away again. “I thought Travelers couldn’t get hurt.” He tried to lighten the moment, but his tone betrayed the anxiety behind the question.

 

Wes smiled gently, covering Will’s hand that was still stroking along his scar. “We’re not the Q. I was practicing teleporting between planes, and I misjudged a spiked plant on a distant world.” He waved a hand as if brushing away the alien flora.

 

Will wasn’t fooled. Long ago, Wesley had refused to ever play poker with him due to the younger man’s utter lack of guile. The real story behind the scar wasn’t important, but Will needed to assess for himself the dangers of Wesley’s abilities. It wouldn’t do to lecture him - Wes wouldn’t listen, anyway. No, he’d have to use a more subtle approach. “What is it like?”

 

“Pointy.”

 

Will pinched his bare ass, making him laugh. “I meant being a Traveler.”

 

Wes’ laughter died away, and he tilted his head at the unexpected question. “You may as well ask what eternity is like. It’s beyond worlds, beyond galaxies and quadrants, and you’re just one infinitesimal piece in all that glory. It makes you feel so…so  _ small _ .”

 

“That doesn’t sound so great.”

 

Wesley’s grin flashed, hazel eyes sending delightful sparks straight to Will’s core. “You wouldn’t think so, would you? But when you witness all those beings on all those worlds in every dimension, it makes you realize that it’s our relative smallness that connects us.”

 

Will couldn’t help smiling back, head shaking as he recognized Wesley’s penchant for wandering down mental rabbit holes. “Yeah, you already lost me. So we’re all insignificant; what’s so amazing about that?”

 

Wes crossed his arms, and the vexed curl of his lips only made Will fall more in love with him. “The point is that the universe functions the way it does because all those small pieces work together. Even when we’re at odds with others, each being is essential to the whole, like...like dilithium crystals in a warp engine.” He paused, chuckling at falling back into old terminology. “Nothing could be more significant than that.”

 

Seeing him there, hands shaping the labyrinth of his ideas in the air, as vibrant as if he’d never left, filled Will with hope he thought he’d lost. “When you put it that way, it must have been incredible.”

 

“Oh, it was, but it was overwhelming, too.” A shadow crossed Wesley’s sweet face, causing an echoing tightness in Will’s heart. Wes’s gaze turned to the transparent wall behind Will’s desk. “You could lose yourself in it.”

 

“Did you?”

 

Wesley’s hands clenched slightly, and Will regretted the question. “When I first left, I wanted to. Some Travelers chase oblivion, running from pain, cutting connections to all they knew. They don’t want to experience anything; they only watch from afar.”

 

Will placed a tentative hand at the small of this back, and Wes’ hands relaxed. “I can’t see you living like that for very long.”

 

Wes curled into him, and Will let out a grateful breath at the contact. “I tried. It didn’t work out.” He turned to face Will, lifting his chin so he could smile up into adoring blue eyes. “I missed what I left behind.”

 

“So you came back.” Will wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer, but he asked anyway. “Did you find what you were looking for out there, Wes?” He kept the rest to himself:  _ Are you done wandering away where I can’t follow? _

 

Wesley fixed him with a measured look, sadness threatening at the edges of his mouth. “I don’t know what I was hoping to find,” he admitted, his mature voice rolling over Will in tender waves. His gaze shifted to the twinkling darkness outside Will’s window. “I do know it was wondrous, and exhilarating, and...and lonely.”

 

Will’s throat tightened, and he saw again a young teen ostracized by his genius, then a tender ensign too overburdened to have a life beyond his very adult responsibilities. Next came a grief-stricken cadet, reeling from a spectacularly tragic failure and left to piece his life back together by himself. Last was the image of a disillusioned young man, desperately following whatever path he thought would sustain him. Will’s heart ached with a particular sharpness, knowing he could have swooped in and saved the day, offered himself as Wesley’s aid and comfort. But he didn’t, and Wes left, and it was only by some undeserved miracle that Wesley had come back to him.

 

Will knew it was the last time he’d make such a grievous mistake. He would fall to his knees first, bind himself to Wesley with his own heartstrings, before he let the man he loved disappear again.

 

He folded Wesley into his arms, settling them both back against the pillow. Tomorrow he’d remember he was still Captain Riker, and they’d have Alexander to deal with and Admiral Lynch to impress, but for right now, for the first time in a decade, they were both exactly where they belonged. And that was, indeed, miraculous.

  
  



	9. Present IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Wesley face their biggest challenge yet - Starfleet egos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is definitely turning into more of a linear story as it goes on, which was not my intention. I really just started with a few loosely-connected vignettes in a VERY loose chronological order, but I guess my writing brain needs a traditional story pattern, so here we are. To all of you who have been following along, you have my undying love, affection and gratitude. Seriously, I can't express enough how wonderfully motivating it is to know someone is reading this thing. On that note, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE WITH CHERRIES ON TOP - COMMENT! I would love to know what you like and don't like, and maybe some ideas for what you'd like to see in the story in future chapters. So please, let me know your thoughts in the comments!
> 
> Also, for you fellow Tolkien fans - yes, I stole the term "Mithrandir" directly from LOTR. And I'm not sorry.

 

 

Present IV

 

Every morning was its own wonder now. Will slept wrapped around Wesley, fighting a vague terror that he’d wake to find Wes gone, that his lover would slip his skin, selkie-like, swimming away into the universe where Will had no power to go. Each morning, even before his eyes opened, his hands were amazed to feel Wes still pressed against his body, and his nose and mouth bloomed awake, buried in Wes’ hair.

 

A week after Wesley’s arrival, Will looked up at the soft sound of bare feet padding in from the bedroom, causing the fork he was carefully setting out to clatter gracelessly against the plate. He was usually gone first thing in the morning, but today he had opted for the later shift in anticipation of Admiral Lynch’s arrival. Wesley’s sleepy grin flashed at the tinkle of silverware, and Will reached out to take him in his arms.

 

He nuzzled a kiss into Wes’ impressive bedhead. “How’d you sleep?”

 

Wes turned slightly to press his ear against Will’s heart. “Better than I have in...a long time.” He nodded toward the formal table setting. “What’s this?”

 

“Breakfast.” Will’s hand trailed up and down Wesley’s bare back, and he wondered if he could convince Wes to just not wear clothes anymore. 

 

“Mmmm. I’ll get the coffee.” He slipped from Will’s arms and headed for the replicator. “Coffee, Midorian cinnamon roast. One black with one sugar; one with milk and three sugars.”

 

Will’s blue eyes widened with unfeigned delight. “You remembered,” he breathed as Wes came back to him, a mug in each hand.

 

A tender smile graced his face - still boyish, even after all their long years apart - as Wes handed Will his cup. “The perks of an eidetic memory.” He took a sip and gave a soft laugh. “You used to ask me if I wanted some coffee with my sugar.”

 

“You’re sweet enough without it.”

 

Wesley whooped a laugh, bright, sudden mirth exploding into the sleepy room. “Your lines are  _ so  _ bad, Will. No amount of time can help that.”

 

Will’s eyes narrowed, offended at his besmirched honor. He stalked toward his lover, grasping a bony wrist and bringing it to his mouth. “Not a line.” He sucked one finger in, relishing the hitch in Wesley’s breath as he did so. “Mmmm. Very sweet,” he mumbled.

 

Wes’ other hand came up to cup the nape of Will’s neck. He leaned up, brushing his soft mouth from Will’s the corner of Will’s lips up to his ear. “You should get ready for your shift, Captain,” he breathed. “Today’s a big day.”

 

Will growled suddenly and swept Wes into his arms, pressing him into the table with enough force to disturb the formal place settings. “Yes, it is. Think you can stay out of trouble until Lynch gets here?”

 

Wes’ hazel eyes widened in exactly the same way they had just before he unleashed a super-race of nanites on the  _ Enterprise _ . He radiated cherubic innocence as he reassured Will. “Of course, Captain.”

 

Will kissed him, light and sweet as fairy floss, and stood back from the table.  _ He can’t cause any mischief just walking around. _

 

Ten years notwithstanding, Will  _ really  _ should have known better.

 

***

 

Unfortunately for the young engineering prodigy-turned-Traveler, extraordinary talents often led to extraordinary trouble. Wesley strolled around the  _ Titan _ ’s spacious decks, familiarizing himself at a glance with each section of his new home. Will would page him when the admiral docked, but until then, he had, quite literally, the run of the ship. 

 

He smiled shyly at the adult passers-by, and grinned more openly at the children. Will had once confided in him that Captain Picard’s primary order for First Officer Riker on board the  _ Enterprise  _ had been  _ deal with the children, _ a task Will had happily taken on. Now, the ship he commanded seemed to be teeming with them, mostly trailing behind their uniformed parents.

 

Rounding a bend, he stopped in front of a lone youngster with vivid golden eyes, standing in front of a turbolift door. She was frowning down at a small box in her hands, tapping its sides and occasionally stamping a foot in frustration.

 

Wes knelt to face her. “What’s wrong, little one?”

 

The girl motioned to the unresponsive box. “My hologenerator - it’s dead.”

 

“Hm. Maybe I can fix it for you.”

 

The girl shrugged and held out the device. Wes chatted with her as he fiddled with it. “What’s your name?”

 

“Yui. What’s yours?”

 

“Wesley.”

 

She nodded. “The captain’s friend.”

 

Wes looked at her in surprise. “That’s right.”

 

Her chin lifted with all the sagacity of childhood. “I heard my baba talking. He said Captain Riker has a special friend who makes him less grouchy.”

 

Wes laughed. “I hope I do.”

 

Yui tapped the device to remind him that this wasn’t a social call. He returned obediently to the silent box. “You know, I think your generator might need a little something extra to make it work. But I’ll need your help.”

 

Her shining eyes widened. “I can help.” She puffed her chest out proudly. “My teacher says I’m  _ really  _ good at fixing things.”

 

“Perfect. Ok, see this side here? Put your hand flat against it. I’ll put my hand on the other side. Now watch the box.”

 

A beat passed, and then the matte surface of the machine began to glow, as if a flame had been lit inside of it. The light was hesitant at first, growing stronger and more steady over a few seconds, until it spread over the entire device. Yui’s mouth opened in wonder as the light pulsed beyond the sides of the box, then gently ebbed back inside. When it died away, small colored lights lits twinkled on the surface, and the power light indicated it was ready.

 

Yui stared up at him in awe. “ _ Mithrandir. _ ”

 

“Huh?”

 

“That’s what my baba calls people like you. It means ‘wizard.’”

 

Wes pulled his hands away suddenly and stood up. “Oh, no, I’m not…”

 

Her eyes narrowed with indignation. “Yes, you are. I  _ saw _ it...oh, hello, Captain Riker.”

 

Wesley spun around to face Will, who had just stepped out of the turbolift that Wes hadn’t even heard opening. His hands were balled by his sides, bearded face set in a stiff mask. Glancing past him, Wes suddenly understood why; from behind Will’s impressive height stepped a petite, sharp-faced woman in an admiral’s uniform.

 

“What is going on here?” Admiral Lynch glared down at little Yui, who seemed entirely unimpressed. 

 

“The captain’s friend fixed my hologenerator.” She smiled proudly. “I helped.”

 

“So I see.” Lynch turned her phaser-blast gaze to Wesley. “You must be the Traveler. How...fortunate to run into you like this.”

 

Will clenched his fists so tightly he could feel his nails digging into his palms, but Wes had spent his entire Starfleet career, however brief, as an ensign - he knew how to address the brass. He adjusted his stance to attention and motioned toward the box in Yui’s hands. “Just a little technical issue, Admiral. I handled much worse in Engineering on the  _ Enterprise. _ ”

 

“Indeed.” Lynch gestured politely down the corridor. “We were heading to the Ready Room, Mr. Crusher, if you would be so kind as to join us.”

 

Will raised an eyebrow, impressed at his lover’s diplomacy. Wes’ eyes sparkled ever so slightly in his direction before turning back to the admiral. “Lead the way, sir.”

 

***

 

After declining Captain Riker’s offer of coffee or tea - Will himself was desperate for a bourbon, but felt it wouldn’t look good in front of the admiral - Lynch took over his desk and pointed toward the two chairs in front of it. Wes looked particularly like a mischievous schoolboy being chastised by the principal, and Will thought his cherubic face might work in their favor. Or not.

 

“Before we begin, Captain, I believe it would be appropriate to include Chief Rozhenko in this meeting, being a matter of ship security.” Lynch eyed Wesley with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity, while he smiled serenely back at her.

 

Will took a breath to steady himself. “Certainly, Admiral.  _ Riker to Chief Rozhenko. Please report to the Ready Room. _ ” Alexander’s baritone gave his reply, and the channel beeped closed. A moment later, the Klingon officer arrived from the adjoining Bridge, and promptly took up most of the small sofa at the side of the room.

 

Lynch surprised them all by addressing Alexander first. “Mr. Rozhenko, please review the nature of your concerns regarding Mr. Crusher, so we are all on the same page.”

 

For the first time in their working relationship, Will saw Worf’s son hesitate. He couldn’t look Wesley in the eye, although the young Traveler seemed more amused than irritated. Finally, Alexander gave a gruff cough and sat up a bit straighter. “As I’m sure you’re aware, Admiral, the Travelers are not a Federation ally. Or an enemy,” he was quick to add. “Their..abilities...are not clearly documented.”

 

Wesley couldn’t help a thinly-veiled reproach. “You could have just asked me, Chief.”

 

Will couldn’t swear to it, but he thought he might have just witnessed a Klingon  _ squirming. _ Lynch saved Alexander from further distress by latching on to his latter point. “Unknown powers certainly make Mr. Crusher an understandable risk - possibly even a threat.”

 

Will gripped the arms of his chair. “Now, just a minute, Admiral!”

 

Lynch turned to him, fingers steepled with infuriating patience. “You disagree, Captain?”

  
  
  
  
  


“Since Chief Rozhenko broached the initial security concern, it seems fitting to appoint him responsible for supervising the Traveler’s...activities.”

 

Will and Wesley stared wide-eyed at the young Klingon. Alexander steeled himself, feeling a vein in his thick neck start to throb.  _ What was that human expression - reap what you sow?  _ He weighed his words carefully, kicking himself for not consulting his father before the admiral.

 

Will jumped in before Alexander could open his mouth and make things worse. “I really don’t think that’s necessary, Admiral. Or appropriate. Mr. Crusher is here as my companion, not as a representative of the Travelers.”

 

“Since you mention the Travelers, Captain, there is another option.” Lynch turned to Wesley, eyes narrowed balefully. “I take Mr. Crusher into custody for infiltrating a Starfleet vessel, and hand him over to HQ on Earth.”

 

Will shot out of his chair and positioned himself in front of Wes, shielding him from the admiral’s hostility. “You certainly will  _ not! _ ”

 

Despite being several heads shorter than Captain Riker, Lynch seemed more formidable when she stood as well. “Those are your options, Captain. I suggest you stand down and choose quickly before I have  _ you  _ taken in for insubordination.” She tossed a nasty smirk in Wesley’s direction. “Perhaps you can share a cell on the way back to San Francisco.”

 

Will dropped into his chair, glaring blue phaser beams through Lynch’s head. His hand shook with barely-contained fury as he ran it through his hair, trying to calm the panic in his brain. Wesley was strangely calm beside him, a stark contrast to the impatient, quick-tempered young officer he was years before.

 

An agonizing beat passed before Wes spoke for only the second time in the entire meeting. “Given the options, Admiral, I’ll take Chief Rozhenko as a babysitter over Starfleet bureaucracy.” 

 

Lynch blinked, taken aback by the nonchalance in his bright voice. She recovered quickly, sitting back down and lacing her fingers together on Will’s desktop. “Wise choice. At the very least, it will save me some valuable time, although I still…”

 

She paused, and Will waited patiently for her to go on. When she didn’t, he looked closer, and realized that it wasn’t only Lynch’s mouth that had stopped moving - it was  _ her.  _ He looked in confusion toward Alexander, and witnessed the same phenomenon; the Klingon sat rigidly on the small couch, face frozen in a menacing scowl.

 

“That shut her up, didn’t it?” In the midst of the uncanny stillness, Wes stood smoothly from his chair and leaned over Will, gripping the armrests to either side. His hazel eyes flared like a supernova, and his voice vibrated with with all the galactic wonder of space-time. “Don’t worry, my beloved. No power in this universe will take me away from you against my will.” Will nearly gasped with the force of Wesley’s pronouncement - here was his lover transformed, a transcendent being with the full power of the cosmos at his command. Will could never decide if the effect inspired devotion or terror, but he knew he’d think twice before challenging it. 

 

“What are we going to do, sweetheart?” Will’s voice came out in a despairing whisper.

 

“We’re going to play nice.” Wes pulled back, eyes twinkling with a more familiar levity as he sat back down. “I took over the  _ Enterprise  _ when I was fourteen and drunk; do you really think some measly admiral can tell me what to do?”

 

Will laughed at the unexpected shift in Wesley’s tone; the spell broke, and Lynch and Alexander came back to life. The admiral hadn’t skipped a beat. “...don’t relish the paperwork, Mr. Crusher. As it is, I will be required to write a rather unique report on the situation.”

 

Wesley’s auburn head bobbed with choir-boy obeisance. “Of course, Admiral. We’re happy to cooperate with whatever Mr. Rozhenko needs.”

 

The now-unfrozen Alexander looked like  _ he’d  _ be happy to escape the room at all costs, and possibly jettison himself out an airlock. He gave Wesley what passed for a sheepish look on a Klingon. “My apologies, Mr. Crusher. I believe you have satisfied any questions regarding your...residence on the ship.” 

 

Wes arched an eyebrow, soft mouth twitching with a repressed giggle. “I’m glad I could ease your mind, Chief.”

 

Lynch decided to remind the room just who was in charge. “On the contrary,  _ my  _ mind is not entirely at ease. Why should I trust your motives, Mr. Crusher? How do I know you’re not acting as an agent of the Travelers?”

 

Wesley looked toward her and lifted his chin, eyes narrowing peevishly. “That’s not how the Travelers work.” He caught Will’s anxious look and softened his approach, slim hands opening benevolently. “Any Traveler is free to pursue their own lives, their own...desires. Will and I…” He paused, looking tenderly in Will’s direction. “We belong together, Admiral. Among every dimension of every universe, we managed to find the one being who brings out the best in each other. And that, I promise you, is a very rare thing.”

 

Admiral Lynch prided herself on her dispassionate nature, her refusal to be coerced by pretty words and soft emotions. But somehow, this enigmatic man with the quick smile and angel’s face was gently wearing down her defenses. And Will Riker, of all hard-assed career men, was gazing at him worshipfully, iceberg eyes melted into adoring pools. Lynch couldn’t decide if she wanted to throw up or hug them both, but she knew without a doubt that if she forbade Crusher from joining the  _ Titan _ , she’d lose the best captain in the Fleet. Besides, having a being with his talents on board a Fleet vessel could be advantageous - as long as he could control them.

 

She speared each man with an imperious glare before standing and marching to the door. “Well, gentlemen, this was certainly an illuminating conversation. I’ll see myself back to the transporter room; it’s a big quadrant and I have other duties.”  _ And other fish to fry.  _ A swish later, and she was gone.

 

Wesley burst out laughing, earning himself a glare from Captain Riker. “Oh, come on, that was hilarious.”

 

“Not exactly the word I would use.” Will turned to poor Alexander, who looked like he was badly in need of some spiked prune juice. “Thank you for your help, Mr. Rozhenko. Why don’t you take the rest of the shift off? I think you’ve been punished enough for running your mouth to the admiral.”

 

“Yes, sir. Thank you, Captain. And Mr. Crusher, I really  _ am  _ sorry.” The young Klingon practically tripped over his own feet in his haste to put as much distance between himself and the Ready Room as possible.

 

Wes turned his megawatt grin back to Will, who shook his head incredulously. “This may not be over, you know. Lynch never does anything without some ulterior motive.”

 

Wes shrugged. “She’s gone for now. And I guess that means I’m officially a member of the  _ Titan _ .” He looked around the Ready Room as if seeing it anew. “I didn’t think I’d ever live on a starship again.” 

  
There it was, that tender, dreamy passion that made Wesley utterly human. For a moment he was Ensign Crusher again, and Will was Commander Riker, and they were stealing kisses in dark corners of the  _ Enterprise _ while their hearts grew around each other.  _ I thought I loved him more than anything then,  _ Will mused.  _ But it was nothing compared to how I love him now. _


	10. Present V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wesley makes an unexpected friend, and Klingon booze makes Wes...playful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter took forever, and I finally forced myself to just plant my butt in the seat and get it done. Special thanks go to Amanda for the Ten-Forward suggestion - please, keep the constructive comments coming! I definitely get more motivated when I get feedback - don't be afraid to tell me what doesn't work as well as what you liked in the story. Again, a thousand thousand shining star thank yous to everyone reading this - I hope you enjoy the latest chapter!

 

Present V

 

_ Every time Commander Riker’s voice rings out on the bridge of the  _ Enterprise _ , Wesley’s brain briefly misfires. Every. Single. Time. He’s eighteen - youngest ensign in the Fleet, savior of the ship several times over - and insanely in love with his commanding officer. Just the sound of Will’s footsteps approaching the helm is enough to send his body into silent paroxysms. Will knows exactly what he’s doing, and Wes will make him pay for it later in teasing licks and strokes, but for now, he clenches the sides of his console and orders himself to behave. _

 

_ His mother hates it. She tries to turn his head toward the many available men and women closer to his age, but Wes left them all behind long ago, both in brains and experience. He counters by reminding her that she was only a few years older than he is now when she married his father, although admittedly, their age gap was only a few months as opposed to his and Will’s fourteen years.  _

 

_ His need for Will rages through him, and only years of carefully honed self-control keep him from bursting into flames. It smolders just under his skin, sometimes white-hot enough that he has to hide in the cargo bay or the arboretum or some other dark alcove, and unfasten the top of his red uniform jacket so he can gulp cooling air into his lungs. _

 

_ He wanders to Will’s quarters after his shift, the door set to admit him automatically. He crams in all his homework and class work and extracurricular work so he and Will can have the night free to play. And play they do, almost before Will steps completely through the door, blue eyes sparkling and the corners of his mouth lifting in Wesley’s favorite grin. Wes flies to his open arms, and before he can stop kissing Will long enough to breathe they’re tumbling into bed, uniforms and communicators and command pips falling to the floor. Will holds him as Wes ruts against his broad thigh; Will kisses his flushed cheeks and damp forehead as he comes for the first time that night, because a whole day is far too long to not touch each other. _

 

Main Engineering on the  _ Titan  _ was always a bustle of activity; unlike on the  _ Enterprise _ , Captain Riker kept a full staff complement around the clock. The engineers had grumbled at first, but when they heard their captain had consulted the renowned Captain LaForge, now head of the Daystrom Institute, they signed up for the graveyard shift with no further complaints.

 

Wes agreed with the mandate, but rolled his eyes, regardless, at Geordi’s demanding expectations. “He always was a worse taskmaster than you,” he muttered, as he and Will were finishing dinner one night, soon after the debacle with Admiral Lynch.

 

Will laughed and shook his fork at his lover. “He was certainly less inclined to go easy on mouthy young ensigns.”

 

Wes grinned. “Geordi loved me. As long as I didn’t screw with his engines.”

 

Now, watching the hypnotic blue pulse of the  _ Titan’ _ s warp core, Wesley had plenty of time to recall the sweeter parts of his life on the  _ Enterprise _ . Will was working overnight, and their bed was too empty without him, so Wes had made his way down to Engineering. Surrounded by familiar circuits and displays, his memory skipped pleasantly through his friendship with Geordi (and Data - the two were a conjoined pair as far as he was concerned). He decided a visit to the Institute was in order; he could be on Mars in the space of a thought if he wished, and back before Will’s shift ended. The young Traveler grinned at the anticipated look on Geordi’s face if he quite literally popped in, and he bowed his head to focus his thoughts. Before he could phase, however, a gruff voice broke his concentration.

 

“Mr. Crusher? I apologize for disturbing you.”

 

Wesley turned and smiled up into Alexander’s aloof glower. “No problem, Chief. Can I help you with something?”

 

“My shift has ended for the night, and I am going to Ten-Forward for a meal. Perhaps you would like...to join me?” The last comment was made through pointed, gritted teeth, clearly hoping Wes would answer in the negative.

 

Wesley forced his laugh into a cough to avoid seeming rude. It wasn’t in his nature to be petty, but he wasn’t going to let Worf’s son just skate by, either. Besides, he  _ was  _ hungry, and curious about this new ship’s social center. He flashed a bright grin at the uncomfortable Klingon. “How kind of you, Chief; I’d love to join you. Lead the way.”

 

Ten-Forward on the  _ Titan  _ appeared nearly identical to the  _ Enterprise _ \- perhaps a bit more spacious - but Wesley missed Guinan’s comforting presence behind the bar when he and Alexander entered. Then he glanced up toward the ceiling, and his dismay instantly turned to delight.

 

The  _ Titan _ ’s designers had included a feature that the  _ Enterprise  _ lacked - in place of a solid, opaque roof, this Ten-Forward had a transparent force-field. Wesley stared wonderingly at the blanket of stars above his head, seeming as close as when he and Pom had visited the stellar nursery. A slow, reverent smile spread across his lips, and he turned in place to take in as much of the view as possible. 

 

“Amazing,” he murmured.

 

Alexander shifted uncomfortably beside him. “Indeed. Would you care to sit?”

 

Wes follow the security chief to a nearby table and settled into the plush chair. He looked around at the bustle of activity, despite the late hour. “No such thing as bedtime on this ship, is there, Chief?”

 

Never one for pleasantries, Alexander nodded curtly and got right to the point. “I looked up your archived Starfleet file, Mr. Crusher.”

 

Wes’ eyes didn’t reflect his thin smile, and he couldn’t help a sniper shot. “Before or after you called Admiral Lynch, Mr. Rozhenko?”

 

Alexander’s ridged head bowed with as much repentance as a Klingon could muster. “An action I truly do regret, I assure you.” He met Wes’ narrowed eyes, voice rough with self-condemnation. “I ignored the chain of command, I disrupted the admiral’s itinerary, I caused undue distress to my captain, and…I distrusted you without cause.”

 

Wesley finally relaxed, waving away Alexander’s confessions. “Don’t beat yourself up over it, Chief. All’s well that ends well.”

 

“Is that a Traveler expression?”

 

“A human one. The only thing I remember from my Classical Lit course at the Academy. I think it’s from Socrates - or is it Dante? I don’t know; I never had much patience with old stories.”

 

“Speaking of old stories, I did contact my father after the admiral’s visit.”

 

A genuine smile finally graced Wesley’s face, convincing even Alexander that Captain Riker’s mystical companion meant no harm (whether he  _ caused  _ any harm - well, that was yet to be seen). Wes couldn’t hide his delight; Worf had always been one of his favorites. “How is your father? What’s he up to? What did he tell you about me? Good things, I hope - he  _ did  _ remember me, right?”

 

Alexander shifted in his seat, taken slightly aback by the barrage of questions. “Of course he remembered you.” His stern mien betrayed a sly smirk. “The first thing he told me was ‘Do not allow Wesley Crusher to make any warp bubbles in Engineering.’ That’s why I went there to find you.”

 

Wesley laughed aloud, and Alexander couldn’t help chuckling along. When Wes had calmed, he smiled fondly at the Klingon. “I told you when I first came on board how much I admired your father. He was always fair, and brave, and kind to me. I always felt safe when Worf was around.” He lifted his face to the transparent ceiling, and he seemed to become younger before Alexander’s eyes. “I’m glad you’re in charge of security on the  _ Titan _ , Chief. I wouldn’t want anyone else protecting Will’s ship.”

 

Alexander’s head lowered again at the unexpected praise. “I strive to become worthy of my father’s legacy, Mr. Crusher.”

 

Wes nodded. “As do I.” He paused, his own father’s kind face floating briefly through his mind before he gruffly cleared it away. “And you know, I’m not one of your officers; you can just call me Wesley.”

 

“As you wish, Mr….Wesley.” After a beat of indecision, he held out a ham-hock palm. “You may call me Alexander.”

 

Wesley laughed again, shaking the proffered hand. “If it’s alright with you, I think I prefer Chief. It reminds me of your father.”

 

Alexander nodded once before leaning in close. “Tell me, Wesley, did you  _ really  _ create an advanced race of nanites on the  _ Enterprise _ ?”

 

The Traveler’s mischievous grin lit up his face. “That’s nothing, Chief. Wait’ll you hear what you have to do to get a death sentence on Rubicun III…”

 

***

 

The last thing Will expected when he passed by Ten-Forward was a view of Wesley and Alexander at a table visible from the glass door, drinking and chatting like old friends. Wesley was particularly energetic, mouth and hands sketching stories in the air. Will watched them for a moment to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him - and perhaps to enjoy seeing Wesley so cheerful and animated - before joining them.

 

Wesley looked up at his approach, apple cheeks suspiciously flushed. “Will! We were just talking about you.”

 

Alexander cleared his throat at Will’s questioning glance. “Wes - Mr. Crusher - and I were just recalling our experiences on the  _ Enterprise _ .”

 

The Klingon’s discomfort combined with Wesley’s grin informed Will exactly what kind of stories they had been telling. “And which embarrassing tale do I have to answer for?”

 

Wes drained the amber liquid from his large stein. “Getting kidnapped by Ferengi. And outsmarting them with your amazing chess skills.”

 

Will nodded with false gravity. “As I recall, the game ended when I punched one of them in the jaw.”

 

Wesley burst into laughter, and even Alexander seemed to be repressing a chuckle. Will shook his head in exasperation. “I’m glad to see you two getting along so well.” He eyed the collection of empty glasses between them. “What’s on tap tonight?”

 

Wes beamed up at him, wrapping his slim hands around his now-empty glass. “ _ Warnog _ . It’s a Klingon drink.” His voice dropped to a comical near-whisper. “The Chief’s more fun when he’s drunk.”

 

Alexander’s ridged brow furrowed in protest. “I am  _ not  _ drunk. However, it is late, and alpha shift begins in a few hours.” He stood from the table and bowed slightly. “Good evening, Captain. Mr. Crusher.”

 

The pair watched him leave, and Will took the vacated seat across from his love. He picked up an empty glass and cocked an eyebrow at Wes. “Some genius you are - challenging a Klingon to a drinking contest.”

 

“Pfft. I did no such thing. We started talking and ordering, and ordering and talking, and…” Wes gestured helplessly at the table before slumping back in his chair. His cheeks flushed again, hazel eyes shining hungrily. “God, you look  _ so _ good in that uniform, Will.”

 

Will’s’ bearded face dimpled at the intimate shift in conversation, and his voice came out lower and rougher than he intended. “Hm. I was just heading to my quarters -  _ our  _ quarters - to remove this uniform. You’re welcome to join me, unless of course you’re having too much fun in Ten-Forward.”

 

Wesley shot up from his chair so fast he slammed his knee against the underside of the table. “ _ Shit _ ,” he muttered, rubbing the sore spot.

 

Will laughed, standing and offering his arm gallantly. “I see your reflexes haven’t improved. Come on, sweetheart, before you hurt yourself even more.”

 

Wes took his arm and allowed himself to be led out of Ten-Forward and along the decks to the captain’s stateroom. Just inside the doorway, Wesley looked up at the solid ceiling as if noticing it for the first time, his lips turned down in a hazy, disgruntled pout. “No stars,” he murmured, soft hands playing at Will’s collar.

 

Will tore his eyes from Wesley’s face long enough to glance toward the large viewports in the outer wall. “The stars are right outside the window, darling.”

 

“No.” Wes gave a stubborn head shake, two gentle fingers now lifting Will’s chin to the plain metal above their heads. “Stars are supposed to be  _ up there _ . Like in Ten-Forward.”

 

“I’ll be sure to mention it to the designers of the next ship class.” Will leaned down to press his mouth against his lover’s, to kiss Wes’ frown from his lips and draw his attention away from the vastness beyond the ship’s hull. Even as he did so, he recognized a very familiar determination in the younger man’s eyes, lit with gray-green sparks of recklessness, and he knew the battle was already lost.

 

“Let me fix it, Will. Just for tonight.” 

 

Will pulled back just far enough to keep his broad hands pressed into Wesley’s hips, his fingers itching to slip both of them out of their clothes. Wes’ cheeks were still flushed from the  _ warnog _ , and Will wanted to taste every inch of him.

 

With admirable patience, he watched as Wesley closed his eyes and lifted his face to the ceiling, then looked up himself and marveled at the sight. The solid metal was moving, heaving and rippling while pinpricks of light forced their way through. Before Will’s eyes, the bulkhead shimmered and dissolved until the lovers stood under an unobstructed starry night.

 

While Will stood entranced, Wesley slipped from his arms to kneel before him on the steel-gray carpet. He made quick work of Will’s uniform slacks, then pulled his own shirt over his head with a gasp, the rush of cool air briefly calming his overheated skin. He rubbed his face against Will’s belly, pressing damp kisses into his lover’s tapered hips and broad thighs, following the already-hard length of Will’s cock with an eager tongue. He matched Will’s surprised gasp with his own deep moan, buried between Will’s trembling legs.

 

One of Will’s hands braced against the nearby tabletop, the other clenched firmly in Wesley’s auburn hair. Will’s eyes rolled up to the starry expanse, and he wondered idly how Wes was able to simultaneously maintain the illusion  _ and  _ devour Will whole, which he now seemed intent on doing. Will’s memory flew back to the innumerable times they had done this on the  _ Enterprise _ , and a breathless laugh escaped his panting mouth. Their younger selves had christened every shadowy alcove of the former flagship, from the turbolifts to the catwalk above the cargo bay. Even on duty,  _ especially  _ on duty, Will would stare at the back of Ensign Crusher’s head and imagine his tongue sketching the soft nape of his neck. He would stand behind the helm just to watch Wes’ nimble fingers dance along his console _ ,  _ and picture those slim hands sliding along his bare skin. 

 

A delicious shiver brought him back to  _ now _ , to the sleek modernity of his own ship, and the beautiful man at his feet, looking up at him with sparkling, hungry eyes. A sly grin graced Wes’ mouth, and he wrapped his bow lips once again around the head of Will’s cock, tongue lashing fit to make Will throw his head back in unbridled delight. His ice-blue eyes followed the swirling galaxies above their heads as Wesley’s hands worked a different magic, one luring Will to the edge with quick, urgent strokes while the other inched gentle fingers just inside his clenched, puckered muscle. 

 

Will stripped off his uniform jacket and undershirt in a frantic attempt to breathe through this raging fire, until his entire body flooded with the galloping blood-rush of his climax. He slumped to the floor, and was met by a very impatient Wesley climbing into his lap, his own trousers already discarded. Will started to speak, to give voice to every ounce of need and want and gratitude, but Wesley pressed his mouth firmly to Will’s and drank down all of his  _ I love you _ s.

 

Several firm strokes later, Wesley gasped out his own orgasm before curling into his lover, humming his satisfaction into the base of Will’s throat. 

 

Will’s fingers ran along Wes’ damp skin, brushing along his petal-soft lips while he pressed kisses to his brow. “My sweet selkie,” he murmured, glancing up and noticing the stars slowly fading back into the opaque, metal ceiling. 

 

Wes mewled sleepily from the cradle of Will’s arms. “My beloved,” he whispered. His eyes drifted closed, and his dreams filled with all the ways Will had ever loved him, and all the shining tomorrows to come.


End file.
